Like a Record Baby
by maggiemae815
Summary: An AU set immediately after "On My Way". It takes months for the dust to settle, and when it does the landscape is completely different. Written during the season 3 hiatus, so everything is different, but contains spoilers up until then.
1. Chapter 1

This story is an AU set immediately after the episode "On My Way" and thus contains spoilers and makes allusions to a suicide attempt.

Warning: References to suicide, language.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. If I did, this all would be canon and season 4 would not have happened the way it was ever at all.

* * *

Twenty more minutes passed by, and it was obvious Rachel wasn't budging on waiting for Quinn to show. Yet it was all a moot point now, as their appointment time had come and gone and they'd need to reschedule it altogether anyway. Finn's face went stony when the receptionist informed him of this, and he came into the room walking stiffly towards Rachel who was staring at her phone, looking positively desperate.

"So, it's not happening today then," he states in an eerily calm voice, but everyone observing can tell how upset he is, and those left who didn't support the wedding are surprised that they were almost disappointed.

"I'm so sorry Finn. But I don't understand," Rachel whispered, eyes still glued to her cell phone. "She said she was coming Finn. She," she let out a deep, shuddering sigh, "she practically promised."

When her voice wobbled Finn's face softened but he didn't make any move towards her. Kurt went over to her and took her hand.

"You know how Quinn is," he spoke consolingly. "No matter how happy she may be for you guys, if she's hurting she tends to avoid."

"No Kurt. She said she would be here. If she wasn't coming or suddenly disapproved again she wouldn't hesitate to tell me, you know that... and now she's not answering my texts," Rachel started speaking really quickly, barely taking a breath, her hand squeezing Kurt's almost painfully, obviously getting herself quite worked up.

"How about I call up her Mom, see if she knows where Quinn is?" Leroy suggested whilst Hiram disappeared out of the door. Leroy dialed and raised the phone to his ear while moving towards the empty part of the room and Hiram slipped back into the room with a small plastic cup filled with water, walking towards his teary eyed daughter. Finn was still standing in front of her awkwardly but seemed to be leaning towards trying not to pout (for now) and he accepted the cup for Rachel, sitting by her side and handing it to her.

"I'm sorry Finn," she whispered again, eyes still locked on the phone resting in her lap. "It just wouldn't have felt right without her here. Something feels off."

She swallowed down the water in three sips, handing the teeny cup back to Finn who placed it on the ground and intercepted her hand with both of his as she reached for her phone.

"I don't totally get it, I mean, are you sure this is about Quinn and not, like, doubts or nerves-"

"We'll be right there," Leroy was saying into the phone, having walked quickly into the center of the room, drawing everyone's attention to himself. Time seemed frozen as everyone in the room took in the look on his face. Rachel squeezed Finn and Kurt's hands.

"What's wrong Daddy?" she asked, breaking the thick silence that had built up in those few seconds.

"Quinn was in an accident, sweety. She's in surgery, her mother's waiting for us-" No one heard the rest of his sentence as they all practically sprinted towards the door, Rachel and Brittany shocked and in tears, Kurt, Finn and Santana comforting them, Blaine following with a blank look on his face. Mercedes had drifted over to Sam looking gob smacked and he had grabbed her hand on his way out. Artie felt himself being wheeled forward and turned around to see Rory pushing his chair at a fast pace, Sugar loping behind them in her heels as quickly as possible to keep up. The adults were shouting orders about driving arrangements, no one even batting an eye at the various people drifting through city hall gaping at the wedding party's boisterous flight out of the front door.

No one noticed Puck whom hadn't moved an inch until everyone was out of the room. He pulled out his cell phone, called his sister, and then booked it out of the backdoor, jumping into his truck and speeding to the hospital. He had sound enough mind to not get himself into an accident, but when he found himself parked in the ER entrance lot he couldn't remember getting there. Once the pounding noise in his ears stopped, he turned up his music and waited for his sister to call him back.

* * *

The surgeons had helped relieve the pressure in her brain ("The fragment of skull cap will remain off until the swelling goes down; she didn't hit her head on impact but seemed to have smashed it against the glass but no, there doesn't seem to be any permanent brain damage. We will continue running tests, can't promise anything until she's awake."), repaired her smashed hand ("The pins will be in for a few weeks, there will be physical therapy to improve function, but no, it will never be back to 100%, it's lucky it wasn't her dominant hand"), set her collarbone and left leg ("The breaks were clean, but the collarbone will be painful while it heals and the leg will also require physical therapy, but yes she has a good chance of regaining full function.") and wrapped up her middle to helps with her bruised ribs ("She had internal bleeding from the bruising, but we took care of that effectively, there was no permanent damage."). She was in a medically induced coma now, six hours later, and the people in the waiting room were told that while she was out of the woods, she would be in the ICU for the foreseeable future.

Mrs. Fabray prepared to hunker down in the waiting room overnight, her eyes practically swollen shut from all of the crying she'd been doing. She'd called her eldest daughter, Nicole, who planned on arriving in the morning, and pretended that her husband hadn't once again shirked his duty as a father.

Rachel was sleeping in Finn's arms, having cried herself into a stupor long ago. He picked her up bridal style, trying his damndest to ignore the irony of it all, to ignore the various pains of the whole day, but tears slipped down his cheeks as he carried her out to his truck. Her dads spoke quietly to Quinn's mom and the Hummel's and then took their leave as well.

Brittany and Santana were sitting on the floor, backs pressed against the wall, their pinkies locked and their heads resting together. They didn't look like they planned to move any more than Mrs. Fabray, and considering how long they'd known Quinn no one was surprised.

"We can give you guys a ride home if you need one," Mike offered one more time, his arm around Tina's shoulders. Artie was riding with them since he didn't want to bother his father and Mike's dad's van was convenient for his chair.

"We're gonna stay until Nikky gets here," Brittany said, and Tina felt tears spring to her eyes at the emptiness in Brittany's voice. This was all wrong.

Rory and Sugar had gone home already, feeling like intruders on a family that had welcomed them readily enough, but which they hadn't quite acclimated into yet. Mercedes sent them both texts to update them on Quinn and allowed Sam to lead her out, having hugged everyone goodbye (when she's gotten to Kurt she'd held on for about two minutes, though Kurt wasn't bothered at all), making plans to meet up at 8 tomorrow morning when visiting hours began. Kurt nodded along but couldn't quite locate his voice. Blaine squeezed his hand and motioned towards his parents.

"Alright sweety," Carole spoke quietly, "you ready to head home? I heard you talking to Mercedes about coming back in the morning, you should get some sleep."

Kurt was suddenly struck with the feeling that there was something he really, really needed to do.

"Uh actually, I'd like to stay here for a while if that's alright. Do you mind driving Blaine home?" Kurt asked, keeping his eyes trained on his father's chin. His skin felt prickly and he just needed to be away from them like, thirty seconds ago. Carole's empathetic gaze and Blaine's soulful puppy dog eyes and his Dad's x-ray vision that all left him feeling like an open book, and he couldn't take it.

"Sure kiddo, it's no problem," his dad said, and if Kurt was surprised at the quick agreement he didn't let it show. "I'll see ya at home then, okay?"

Kurt finally met his dad's eyes and nodded. They shared a hug, and then Carole was hugging him, and Blaine was giving him a kiss on his cheek, but his mind was already in a room on the third floor.

The door was slightly ajar and Kurt pushed it open quietly, hoping it wasn't a bad time. Visiting hours were over but no one seemed to give him a second glance. He figured he didn't look threatening enough to warrant suspicion and thanked the universe for his unimposing demeanor.

David was lying on the bed facing away from the door, eyes on some black and white movie playing on the little TV screen. Kurt cleared his throat softly and David's eyes darted to the door.

"Kurt? What are you doing here? It's late- aren't visiting hours over?" Dave asked, looking concerned. Kurt felt his resolve crumbling and a tear slipped out of his eye.

"Kurt?" Dave said his name again, softly, full of all sorts of emotions; suddenly Kurt was crying like he hadn't since his dad's heart attack. Dave got out of the bed, part of Kurt's brain noting that he was wearing Thor pajamas. "Kurt, what's going on?"

"Quinn, she's- she," Kurt stammered, and Dave looked even more concerned now, reaching out for Kurt's hand.

"Breathe Kurt, come on. What happened to Quinn?"

Kurt took a deep breathe to compose himself, squeezing David's hand and closing his eyes, missing the way Dave's eyes darted to their joined hands and the jock swallowed thickly.

"She was in a car accident. It was pretty bad. She had some internal bleeding, lost a lot of blood; her brain was swollen so they had to take off a piece of her skull - her SKULL, David! - her left hand is shattered, left leg broken," at this point he was crying again and couldn't continue. Dave's eyes were wide and he felt the tears coming at the sight of Kurt so distraught.

He led Kurt by his hand with a gentle pull to the bed, the chair still pulled up beside it. He sat on the bed and placed Kurt in the chair, stroking the back of his hand with his thumb.

"Hey, shh, is she out of the woods, did they say?"

Kurt nodded his head, quickly accepting the tissues David handed him. Kurt still seemed incapable of speech, so Dave tried his best to be comforting.

"It's Quinn Fabray, Kurt. She's like the definition of tough, yeah? She'll pull through this just like everything else she's overcome," Dave spoke firmly; glad to finally be able to repay Kurt a little for all the comfort he'd given the jock. David could also admit to himself that after Kurt, Quinn was someone he admired most for her sheer bravery and attitude. He was confident that the audacious gleek would pull through this.

Kurt's tears seemed to have stopped flowing, and his breathing was slowly returning to normal. Still they sat together, David's thumb stroking over Kurt's knuckles, allowing the constant buzz of hospital noise to float around them as they tried, and failed, to center their thoughts and feelings.

* * *

Kurt had finally left the hospital at almost 1 am (his curfew, which he made with 3 minutes to spare) with a promise to David that they'd be seeing each other again soon. He was disappointed that David would be gone by the time Kurt arrived to meet Mercedes, Dave anticipating leaving so badly he planned to be ready to go by the first morning's rounds.

Kurt had barely gotten any sleep, him mind going round and round with thoughts of David (was it too soon for him to be home, possibly unattended? what was he going to do about going back to school? why did sitting with him last night feel like the most natural thing in the world?), Quinn (had anything changed while Kurt had been home? what would she be like when (if) she woke up from this, because no one could possibly be unchanged by something like this? why Quinn, who already had a steel plate around her heart? why, when things were finally looking up for her?), and Blaine (slash Sebastian, i.e.; what was with those looks those two had been giving each other? why was it that David Karofsky managed to give him the most romantic Valentine's WEEK of his life, yet his boyfriend's first point of business when making his big return was SINGING? also, back to the googly eyes- did Blaine forget that Sebastian had admitted to Santana that the Slushy of Death had been meant for Kurt?) and when he woke up the next morning he was almost afraid to look at himself in the mirror, knowing he had to look like a train wreck. What was going on? Senior year was turning out to be the craziest so far, and that was saying something.

By the time Kurt had pulled himself together he was fifteen minutes late to meet Mercedes, who was already in the ER waiting room with Santana, Brittany, Mrs. Fabray, Rachel, Finn, and a young blonde woman Kurt assumed to be Nicole.

"I'm sorry I'm late. Is there, uh, has there been any change?" Kurt whispered to Mercedes, but Rachel was the one who answered.

"No change," and when Kurt finally took in her appearance he thought she looked worse for the wear than even he, with his mussed up hair, bags under his eyes and two year old jeans. Her eyes were swollen, her nose red, one shaking hand wiping away the tears that didn't stop falling while the other held a glass cup with a handle and gold stars covering it.

Finn was rubbing soothing circles on her thigh, looking a little sick, and Rachel was staring blankly ahead, not even seeming to even register his touch. Kurt felt like he was missing something, but was a little afraid to ask.

He motioned his head towards Finn, who studied Rachel for a few seconds and took his hand off of her. When he stood up and still received no sign that Rachel was aware of his presence or lack there-of, he gave her a heartbroken look before nodding towards Kurt and ushering him towards the hallway.

"What's wrong with Rachel? I know she's upset about this but... did something else happen?" Kurt asked, feeling sick to his stomach. What else had gone wrong?

Finn scrubbed a hand over his face with a grunt, but there were still wet splotches on his cheeks when he turned towards Kurt.

"Turns out Quinn got into the accident because she was texting."

Kurt nodded but wasn't surprised; it was a hazard so many people ignored. And while he knew for a fact Rachel abhorred the practice that was no reason to seem to shaken.

"She was texting Rachel, Kurt," he said slowly, Kurt's pinched face telling him he understands the problem.

"Rach is convinced it's her fault and it's freaking me out a little bit. She's shaking and won't talk and if Quinn isn't okay I think Rachel's going to fall apart and I'm so scared Kurt," Finn broke down, reaching out for Kurt, and for the second time since Leroy got off of the phone he felt a warmth in chest at having a brother in Finn (what did it say that the first was with David?). While he didn't totally approve of the wedding happening so soon, he knew Finn and Rachel made each other happier than he'd ever seen them, and it was only out of protectiveness for both parties that he objected. Seeing Finn look so fragile at the prospect of losing two of the most important women in his life in one fell swoop, Kurt was again reminded that life is too damn short, and if you found happiness you couldn't go about fearing that you might lose it.

"Quinn's going to be alright, and she's going to be able to tell Rachel that no one made her pick up the phone, and that there is no fault because bad thing just happen, and I promise Finn we're all going to come out of this, okay?"

He wasn't sure if he was saying they'd be alright or asking if Finn agreed, but Kurt gave him one last squeeze and then let go, leading Finn back to his spot next to Rachel. Finn gave him a small, barely there thankful smile before returning his hand to Rachel's thigh. Both boys saw when her eyelids fluttered, and though she remained motionless beyond that it was enough to rekindle the dying embers of hope inside of them.

Everyone had been milling around the waiting room for about 4 hours when a doctor strolled in, headed towards Mrs. Fabray.

"News?" she choked around her coffee, not even batting an eye when a bit of the spray landed on her blouse.

"Good news, yes," the doctor said, and a sigh of relief was heard throughout the room. "The swelling in her brain has gone down, so we'll be reattaching the skull fragment. We'll be doing an MRI to check for any visible damage, but of course we won't know more until she wakes up." The doctor paused, wanting to make sure she didn't give the poor woman false hope. When Mrs. Fabray nodded that she understood and was taking everything at face value, she continued. "Tomorrow we will be taking her off of the medications keeping her asleep. She will, of course, still be on pain medicine so she'll be groggy, but she should start waking on her own within the next 36 to 48 hours. We won't know more about what's going on in her head until that happens, and will keep her the ICU until then. Her vitals are good, all of her incision sites are looking well, and I'd like to encourage you to be cautiously, very cautiously, optimistic."

Mrs. Fabray was nodding very quickly, a small smile on her face, and she hugged Nicole tightly. Everyone there sort of realized that there was really nothing they could do there now as the worst of the waiting seemed to be over, Nicole agreeing to enact a Glee club phone tree for any and all news. She and her mother were going home to shower and try to eat, would be returning around the time they planned to replace the skull flap, and Brittany and Santana were catching rides home with them.

"I'm gonna head to youth group then, you guys, I've got a lot to pray about. Kurt, I'll talk to you later," Mercedes said, giving Kurt a tight squeeze. Mercedes turned to Rachel and Finn, looking as if she wanted to say something, but just frowned and turned on her heel, heading towards the door.

Finn spoke softly to Rachel, repeating what the doctor said over and over until she appeared to finally take it in.

"So, things are looking good for now?" She asked in a croaky voice, finally meeting Finn's eyes, and he reached out a hand to cup her face, rubbing at her tears with his thumb.

"Yeah, baby. Quinn's already getting better. We should go eat, get some rest."

She nodded slowly, moving as if surrounded by molasses, and Kurt was again unnerved at seeing Rachel Barbra Berry in such a state. So lost in his worrying he didn't notice when she practically leapt at him, and would've dropped her if she didn't have such a tight grip.

"I love you Kurt, okay? I need you to know you're my best friend and you're someone I need in my life to be my whole self and I'm sorry if I ever made you doubt how much you mean to me, how much your opinion means to me, I swear," she was babbling into his shoulder, and he was grateful he'd been lazy enough to wear a last-years line graphic tee when he felt tears, and maybe a little spittle, land on his neckline.

"I know Rachel, I know. I love you too. Now go with Finn and get some rest okay? You look like you need it."

She pulled a face at that, and it was just Rachel enough, just the right amount of levity, that all three felt better for a moment. Rachel leaned heavily on Finn as they left the room, and Kurt wondered what to do with himself now. His first thought was that he couldn't believe he was out in public looking like this, but he couldn't bring himself to go home. He picked up his phone with every intention of calling Blaine, but it seemed his hand had a mind of its own and before he knew what he was doing, Kurt was bringing the ringing phone to his ear.

* * *

Puck was sitting in his truck, waiting for his sister to return with any information she might have. There were few moments when Puck's badass-ery was called into question, but when the situation involved a combination of hospitals, baby mama's in coma's (medically induced or not she was still in a fucking COMA, like when did Puck's life turn into this demented soap opera), and the possibility of his baby mama's daddy showing up sort of convinced him that laying low was a good option.

Especially with all of these damn emotions floating around his head and chest and gut. Now, he knew he and Quinn hadn't worked as a couple, but there was still a part of him that thought 'but maybe one day'. They'd already made a perfect kid together, which Puck thought said a lot, and Puck was never tied to Lima so would have no problem going somewhere else, even if it was a uppity as the area Yale was in sounded.

He also knew Quinn would probably never take him back, especially after the Shelby debacle, but still the 'what if's hung in the air and were making it hard to breathe.

Thankfully Sarah chose that moment to show up, and the first words out of her mouth were, "You so owe me." Hitting thirteen soon, his sister had taken to puberty like white to rice, and sometimes it worried him, watching her grow up in front of his eyes.

Bringing himself back he asked, "What'd you find out?"

Sarah told him all she'd weaseled out (which was everything) after posing as one of Quinn's cousins. (Not that they looked related, but Puck figured that with all the visitors Quinn had last night the hospital had no idea who any of them were, probably had more important things on their mind like keeping her alive.)

Puck squeezed his eyes shut, reaching over to give her a pat on the back for a job well done. She scoffed at him

"I'm not a dog, Noah, don't PAT me! Ugh, you are so singing at my Bat Mizvah to make up for this, you know I hate hospitals," she said, trying to use bravado to mask how serious her discomfit was.

"I know, bubby, and I really appreciate it. I promise you'll have the best I-am-woman-hear-me-PMS party in the district." He gave her a genuine smile, belying his words, and her retaliatory punch landed like a wisp of air.

"Damn straight. Now let's go home, you need some sleep, I definitely need a shower, I HATE the smell of hospitals. Your friends from Glee will let you know if anything changes, right? But like the doctor said, things are looking good and it could be another couple of days until she wakes up until she wakes up..."

Noah nodded along, barely taking anything she was saying in. He was hit with exhaustion, and turned the music up loudly (much to Sarah's chagrin) and drove home carefully.

"Hey squirt," he said before ascending the stairs, "this DAMN well better teach you never to text and drive, you understand me?"

Sarah gave him a serious look, nodded twice, and whispered, "Promise."

Puck grunted out something that meant, 'kay I'm going to sleep goodnight/morning' and headed upstairs to crash.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and no profit is being made off of this. I only get the (perhaps delusional) satisfaction of writing things the way I wish they were.

* * *

Dave was lounging on his couch watching Casablanca for the third time since 'The Incident' while his dad worked at his desk. Dave knew he was being watched, and he still wasn't sure how he felt about it. He had been telling Kurt the truth when he said he was glad he was alive. Even though he still had that burning feeling of humiliation in his gut, and a small voice telling him how pathetic he was, he kept thinking back to a part of 'Girl, Interrupted' that had always stuck with him. His cousin had recommended the book to him, tears flowing down her cheeks as she described how amazing the story was. Dave had pretended to be disinterested, but Sonia had always seen through him and when they'd spoken the week after, he'd given a full review while she agreed with or disputed him along the way.

Just as Dave was reflecting on the part where the narrator spoke of her suicide attempt as maybe not really wanting to die, but wanting to kill a part of herself, his cell phone started playing, "Born This Way." He reached for it with shaky hands, knowing that yeah, Kurt said they'd see each other again but that was yesterday. He was so in shock it almost went to voicemail, but he pressed the screen and answered with a shaky, "Hello?"

"There's some good news with Quinn," Kurt's voice rang out, and Dave felt his throat constrict. He coughed quietly and smiled a little, glad to hear that.

"Oh yeah? What's up?" he asked, trying to stay cool, calm, and collected. He ignored the concerned look his father shot him when he voice cracked.

"Well the swelling in her brain has gone down, they're putting the piece back on and by tomorrow should be taking her off the sleeping medication. They'll be running MRIs today to check for any physical signs of brain damage, and if, um, once she wakes up, they'll know for sure," Kurt finished, and Dave heard him take in a shaky breath.

"Good, that's great news Kurt," Dave said, and then sort of felt at a loss as to where to go from there. Why had Kurt called him to tell him that? Don't get him wrong, he was upset about Quinn and was glad to hear there was hope, but other than that he was still an outsider in this situation, not a member of their merry gang who deserved constant updates.

"Look, I know this is a little weird-"

"Yeah," Dave breathed out, "sorry."

"What? It's not your fault. Maybe I shouldn't have called," Dave felt his heart sink at that, "but we agreed we wanted to be friends and I really need an objective friend today. Someone I can be around without being reminded of all of this." Dave nodded along until he remembered Kurt couldn't see him.

"Yeah, I get that," again it was breathed out, making Dave realize his façade of being unaffected by Kurt wasn't really holding up.

"Plus, I wanted to see how you were doing, David," Kurt said, and this time his tone matched Dave's. Dave, who shivered at hearing Kurt say his name like that.

"Do you wanna come over?" It came tumbling out of Dave's mouth before he knew what was happening, and this time his wide eyes met his dad's, who was still wearing a concerned, but also now also curious, expression. Shit.

"Uh," Kurt let out, seeming taken aback, "would your father be okay with that?"

"Yeah he'd probably be relieved, not having to keep his eye on me for a bit," Dave said, slightly gruff, eyes locked on his dad's. "You don't have to if you don't want- it was stupid, came outta nowhere," Dave rushed out still gruffly, his eyes averted to his socks. Kurt was still silent on the other end.

Just as Dave felt the tears prickling and made to hang up on Kurt and avoid more humiliation, more rejection, (why did he keep setting himself up like this when he KNEW - )

"Text me your address, I'll be over in about twenty?" Kurt spoke gently, and Dave released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"You're sure?" Dave asked, cringing at how pathetic he probably sounded.

"Yes David, I actually look forward to seeing the cave you dwell in."

When Dave remained silent, thrumming with shock, nervousness, and maybe slight hurt at Kurt's comment, Kurt spoke up again.

"That was a joke," he deadpanned, and Dave shook his head to himself, smirking when Kurt asked, "Too soon?"

"Nah," and Dave let himself chuckle, "I was just kind of surprised, ya know?"

"Yes well, it seems as of recent surprises are around every corner," Kurt spoke dejectedly, and Dave wanted to steer away from depressing subjects.

"Kay so, I'll text you my address. Twenty minutes?" he asked, already hopping up and going to change out of his embarrassingly juvenile (shut it he was a nerd, whatever) pajamas, which he'd been wearing since the night before when came had appeared like a dream.

"Twenty minutes," Kurt affirmed. "See you then, David."

"Yeah Kurt, see ya," Dave spoke quickly before hanging up and lumbering to the stairs.

"Dave," his dad's voice rang out, and he froze, having totally forgotten about his audience. "Kurt's coming over?"

Dave felt his skin prickle at his dad's question.

"Is that a problem?" he asked, shoulders tensing. He still hadn't turned around to face his father.

"David," his dad spoke softly, and he heard shuffling steps headed his way before a hand landed in between his shoulder blades. His muscles loosened immediately. "I'm glad you have Kurt."

"He's just a friend Dad," he said softly, annoyed at his father's insinuation. Or maybe he was just being paranoid (READ: hopeful, like maybe his Dad in all of his infinite wisdom knew something Dave didn't).

"Good then, you can never have too many real friends," his dad said before the hand lifted and he heard footsteps shuffling away. "Your door stays open while he's here," his dad added just as Dave started to climb the step, and he felt himself blush before shooting a look at his father's tight, but genuine, smile. Like he was attempting to act normal about something when seriously, only in Dave's dreams was it 'something'.

"It's not like that Dad," he gritted out, before taking the steps two at a time. But he couldn't pretend that a weight hadn't seemed lifted at his dad's words. His mom (aka the woman who ran out and whose opinion shouldn't matter (but it really does, and he hates it)) may think he's diseased, but father had barely batted an eye about the gay part. It was more the my-son-almost-killed-himself thing that had almost broken Paul Karofsky, and Dave made a promise to himself that no matter how bad it may get, he'd never do that to his dad again.

Dave was searching through his jeans, looking for his favorite pair (comfy and worn, they didn't fit too tight and complimented his husky frame) when he was struck with the thought that a lot may have gone wrong recently, and he still had an ass load of stuff to go through before it was, if it could be, resolved- but he was a lucky guy. He had a great father, and Kurt was coming over in- a glance at the clock told him he had eleven minutes before Kurt's ETA and that sent him scrambling for a clean white T and button up, nerves rearing an ugly head.

* * *

After Kurt hung up with David he ignored the strange feeling in his gut and his clammy palms and decided he should call Blaine, since on the Glee tree it was Kurt's job to contact him. He wasn't sure why he seemed to need to force himself to dial Blaine's number. There seemed to have been a shift in them recently, and Kurt was still trying to find his footing.

"Hey babe," Blaine greeted him, sounding groggy and stuffed up. Kurt figured he'd had as good as night's sleep as the rest of them.

Kurt proceeded to tell Blaine all he knew about Quinn's condition, and said that they should all be finding out around 4 how the surgery for the skull flap went.

"Ugh, thank God," Blaine choked out.

"Mhm, anyway, everyone left for now, even her mom and sister, not sure if any of Glee, outside of Brittana, will be visiting until she wakes up," Kurt finished.

"You mean 'if' Kurt," Blaine spoke out slowly, and Kurt's blood ran cold. "We should all be preparing for the worst."

"The doctor's didn't say that. Excuse us for wanting to stay positive. You did hear that the doctor used the words 'cautiously optimistic' yes?"

"Yeah Kurt, to be cautiously optimistic IF Quinn does wake up. We can't lose ourselves in false hope, it'll only hurt more."

And a part of Kurt knew Blaine was right, but then he thought back to when his dad was in the hospital, and how the doctor's had told him to prepare for the worst and Kurt had refused, had held strong to the knowledge that his dad was a scrapper and would make it through; just like the future Yale attendee was going to.

"You know, when my dad was sick Rachel, Mercedes and Qui... well people kept encouraging me to have faith. And I do have faith Blaine. I had faith in my father, and I have faith in our queen bee. I think you need to find a little too, Mr. Thank-God!" Kurt pitched a slight fit, felt the heat rushing to his face.

"I understand all of that but I still think we should remember the 'cautious' of 'cautiously optimistic' and remain realistic, Kurt. But you know I have faith in Quinn and I am hoping for the best," Blaine said, sounding hurt.

Kurt needed coffee.

"You're right, I'm sorry," Kurt slumped, "but I've been telling myself that nothing can pull our resident HBIC down, and I'm going to keep telling myself that. She's going to pull through this. I don't care how false, Blaine. I am clinging to that hope, alright?"

"I guess everyone handles things different, right?" Blaine pondered, but before Kurt could respond Blaine said, "I think I'm going to call Sebastian to give him the update," like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Sebastian? I know he 'made nice' and all but what right does he have to know about this?" Kurt could actually feel the condescension dripping from his voice.

"Considering I called him last night to tell him, I think he'd appreciate it," Blaine responded shortly.

"So the question becomes why did you call him at all?" Kurt tried to keep his voice from going pitchy.

"Because we're friends!"

"After what he did? Blaine that slushy was dangerous, not to mention-"

"He apologized, it just went too far, he didn't mean for-"

"Excuse me but he MEANT that slushy for me! It was premedita-"

"Like you have any room to talk, anyway!"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Kurt yelled, attracting looks from hospital staffers on their smoke break. He scurried to his car, having totally forgotten where he was.

"You being all buddy buddy with Karofsky."

Kurt stopped in his tracks.

"You can NOT be serious. David just tried to take his own life and I should have been there for him long before this! He apologized, and he transferred, and I shouldn't have blown him off in the first place," Kurt let out in one breath.

"Yeah, you should've gone on a DATE with him instead?!" Blaine asked harshly, and Kurt wasn't sure he'd ever heard Blaine get like this.

"No," Kurt felt himself redden a bit, "but I shouldn't have left it the way I did. Especially not after the guy from his school saw us," said Kurt, shaking his head slowly. He wasn't sure he'd ever forgive himself.

Silence reigned for a full minute before Blaine said softly, "I think we both need to cool off. Tensions are high, I know I had a terrible night's sleep- I really do need to make that call, I feel terrible for laying this on him already."

Kurt just shook his head to himself, about to tell Blaine that he too had things to do, needed to be at David's in - he glanced at his watch - seven minutes?!

"Sure, I'll talk to you later Blaine. Maybe tomorrow or later tonight if I manage a nap. I haven't even had coffee yet," he let out a few small chuckles at that, wanting to relieve the tension. He really hated fighting with Blaine.

"Well that explains a lot."

Kurt heard the smirk in Blaine's voice and chuckled again. "Talk to you later, babe. Love you."

"Love you too, later," Kurt replied.

It wasn't until he began entering David's address into his GPS that he realized he'd never mentioned where he was going to Blaine.

* * *

Sarah answered the door and was surprised when she encountered Finn whose paw of a hand was raised in a fist to knock, AGAIN.

"Is Puck alright?" he panted out and Sarah instantly felt a jolt of worry.

"Yeah, why wouldn't he be? He told me he was going to sleep."

She turned and ran up the steps to Noah's room, hoping he hadn't gone out while she had showered. He had been exhausted!

Finn followed her, his skin crawling with anxiety.

She didn't even bother knocking, she figured he was either not there or asleep, so when she encountered him sitting up in bed and staring at his laptop she looked confused but Finn let out a deep breath and rushed into the room, ignoring Puck's, "Dude, what's wrong?"

"Why the HELL aren't you answering your phone, man! EVERYONE has been trying to call you! You weren't at the hospital, you weren't home when I checked early this morning, no one was, and after we went to the hospital, I dropped Rachel off and drove around to all of your spots looking for your dumb ass!" he exclaimed, shoving Puck hard enough he fell off the bed.

"Hudson, back off!" Puck ground out, biting back the urge to mock Finn for chasing after him, as they wrestled for a minute, Puck struggling to get up and Finn trying to keep him pinned down. "My phone's been on silent in my glove compartment since I didn't want to bring it in to distract from your WEDDING yesterday! Sorry I didn't think of it after all the shit went down."

Sarah didn't mention that Noah had called her about Quinn yesterday or that she'd called him back to map out when he was going to pick her up so she could be his spy.

Finn gave Puck one last shove, then twirled around and sat on the bed, his head in his hands. Puck stood up hesitantly.

"Did something happen?" he asked, still keeping a distance from Finn. Guy seemed more volatile (Rachel's been tutoring him ever since he admitted to wanting to graduate) than usual today.

"Nothing bad, Quinn's going back into surgery to have the skull flap put on soon, her brain seems better," Finn told him, explaining the doctor's plans for the next few days, not knowing Sarah had already found out, and Puck listened for anything Sarah may have forgotten.

When he was finished he stood up in front of Puck, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"You good dude?" he asked quietly. Any other time Puck would have shrugged him off but this was his best friend since childhood... He saw Sarah leave the room and figured, 'what the hell'.

"Eh, I don't think I'll be okay 'til she wakes up," he admitted, exhaustion once again hitting him. "I just e-mailed Shelby to let her know what happened."

Finn nodded, squeezing the hand on Puck's shoulder before reaching for his phone.

"I know what you mean dude." He signed and tugged a hand through his hair, which was sticking up every which way. "I gotta get back to Rachel and I'm gonna let everyone know you're alright. You had us all worried but I made them all try to get some sleep," he said reaching for his phone.

Puck had a moment to wonder both when Finn had grown up so much... when they all had.

"Whatever man, you all need to stop worrying so much," Puck shrugged. "I'll have my phone by me. Go back to our littlest JAP. I'm fine."

With a hand-clasp and one armed hug Finn was out the door, and Puck went back to his laptop, turning his e-mail alert sound up high.

Knowing the obnoxious noise would jolt him out of sleep if he got a response from Shelby, Puck finally allowed himself to lie down and wait for sleep to take him far away from all this shit.

* * *

Dave was pacing in the living room, finally deciding to forego shoes because, hello, he was home and who wore shoes around the house.

Just as he was starting to freak out about his lack of healthy snack foods, the doorbell rang.

He stared at the door, trying to figure out how soon was too soon and how long was too long before cursing under his breathe, schooling his features, and pulling the door open.

"Hey," he exhaled, taking in Kurt's slumped posture and pink nose, sunglasses hiding those beautifully expressive eyes from his view.

"Please tell me you have coffee," Kurt said, and gave Dave a small smile. "I haven't had any yet this morning, and I'm not sure I should be out in society without it."

"Sure, come on in," Dave gestured Kurt in and his dad looked up from his desk.

"Hello, Kurt," he greeted.

"Hi Mr. Karofsky, thanks for, er, letting me come over," Kurt said slightly awkwardly. For a whole second he questioned whether he should have come over at all when Dave's father waved him off. Kurt pulled off his sunglasses.

"You're welcome here any time Kurt, and please, call me Paul. Hope your family's doing well," he said with a friendly smile. Kurt smiled back and gave him a small nod.

"I'm gonna go start the coffee, you like it strong?" Dave cut in, wanting to escape the room. For some reason having his father and Kurt together made him nervous; reminded him of principle office visits.

"Yes, please."

"We only have half & half, though. Nothing like, healthy or fancy," Dave said, and then seemed to realize what he had said.

Kurt's eyes widened imperceptibly before he cracked a smile, giggling a bit.

"Not a problem, I think I'm allowed to splurge today," Kurt chuckled, and Dave felt himself relax.

"Alright, I'll go set it up," Dave said, gesturing towards the kitchen.

Kurt turned towards Dave's dad, as if afraid of being rude by leaving.

"Make enough for me to have a cup please, Dave. This account is driving me insane," Paul asked before turning back to his paperwork.

Kurt turned to follow Dave, who called out, "No problem," over his shoulder and walked through an arched doorway.

Once in the kitchen Dave pulled out a chair for Kurt before turning away quickly to get the coffee ready. Subsequently he missed Kurt's arched eyebrow and the way he sort of harrumphed when he sat down (Blaine didn't pull chairs out for him).

Kurt meant to start with small talk, really he did (but what kind of small talk; How are you feeling? Stupid question. What have you been up to? Even more stupid question. Really Kurt had no choice but to go big) but when he opened his mouth he asked, "What are you going to do about school?"

Dave's hand froze grabbing the cream from the fridge, the only sound in the kitchen the drip, drip, drip of the coffee maker. Kurt pulled in a silent, slow breath, preparing to retract the question.

Then David turned to him with his deep eyes glistening and shrugged, asking, "You really think I should transfer? You don't think it'll make me look like a coward?" And then he laughed self-deprecatingly. "An even bigger coward I mean."

You're not a coward David. You were hurting and scared, on top of all of that you felt isolated and you... reacted. If anyone judges you, screw 'em, right?" Kurt spoke with a conviction that surprised Dave, and he nodded slowly. "Good. As for schools, I believe you should come back to McKinley." At this suggestion Dave didn't even try to hide his surprise, his mouth gaping open. "You'd have the Glee club there for you, which I'm sure of. I also think a lot of people were affected by the uh, events of this past week."

"The Incident, you mean?" Kurt raised a brow. "'s what I'm calling what I did."

Kurt nodded slowly, not sure how to respond to that.

"Anyway," Dave turned back to what he was doing, "I wasn't sure if you'd want me there." He said it so softly Kurt barely heard, and Dave cursed himself for the nth time today for letting that out. Could he look any more desperate?

"I'm going to go over this just once more- come now, David, I thought you were a quick learner." Dave shot him a look over his shoulder before scoffing and turning back to the mugs and sugar with a shrug. "I want us to be friends, and maybe we could even set up a GSA and/or PFLAG like I had planned."

Dave nodded and told Kurt he'd talk to his dad about it.

"Not to mention I haven't forgotten how well you performed during the halftime show last year," Kurt said after sipping his coffee. "This is really good, by the way. But yes, I also seem to remember Finn raving about how 'cool' you were being and I think Glee would be a good environment for you."

Dave tried to fight against the blush but could barely bring himself to care that he was losing the battle.

"You really think so?" he asked, once again sounding pathetic but not caring. Kurt thought he had performed well.

"Mhm, so that's something else to think about."

Dave groaned at that. "Yeah, like there's not enough of that going around," he responded.

The conversation flowed pleasantly, and they were discussing future plans, Kurt wanting to hear more about Dave's desire to be a sports agent after giving a ten minute speech on the pros & cons of fashion vs. performing.

"Pretty cut and dry, really." But the sparkle in his eye showed Kurt it really wasn't, though. "I love sports but I'm a better observer than player. Except for hockey, and the longevity of a career in that puts a damper on the idea. But I could scout for a while, work my way up, and eventually represent the future Eli Manning. I think that'd be pretty exciting," Dave told him, letting the words flow. He'd never actually spoken to anyone about this stuff. It was exhilarating.

Kurt smiled widely, seeing how excited Dave got when he talked about his possible future career ideas.

"There's nothing better than building a life by doing what you love," Kurt said. "My dad told me that when we were discussing my plans for college. He loves cars, especially the old muscle car. You obviously love sports, so that sounds great."

"If only I'd spent time thinking about this instead of ways to deflect all my crap on you and I might actually have a chance at it," Dave spoke, suddenly sullen.

"Ugh, no, none of that. That ends now David Karofsky. I have forgiven you, please forgive yourself. You are a smart young man and you have a great future ahead of you. Are there going to be hurtles? Yes, of course. But you have the power and strength to overcome them," the words came out harshly, but then Kurt's eyes softened. "If you don't believe in yourself you'll be your own, and worst, hurtle. It's a cliché for a reason."

Dave reached out for some of the courage Kurt seemed to exude and grabbed for Kurt's free hand, rubbing it the way he had the night before.

"Thanks Kurt. For everything. Again," he spoke quietly, eyes on their joined hands.

"Thank me again when I'm monopolizing your time to get the GSA and PFLAGS up and running."

Dave's head snapped up.

"You want to do both?"

"Well McKinley needs the GSA and Lima as a whole needs the PFLAG group, so yes, I would really like to."

"You're somethin' else, Hummel. Guess I need something to keep me distracted, so sure. I'm up for it."

"Fabulous," Kurt enunciated slowly, and they both burst out laughing.

Neither had released the other's hand.

"So this will be our regular meeting time for the planning, as well as when we can find time in school, yes?"

Dave almost regretted agreeing to help with the groups because Kurt was already like a dog with his favorite chew toy, and they hadn't even made a single plan besides meeting every Sunday.

"Yes Kurt, and believe me if I do end up going back to McKinley, you've gained yourself a shadow... or something less creepy sounding," Dave mumbled the last sentence, resisting the urge to face palm until Kurt was out of the door.

Kurt just smiled at him and shook his head a little.

"You're an alright guy, David Karofsky," he said before turning to leave. His phone went off and instantly the smile slid off of his face. Please be good news, he thought.

He read the texts and released a happy squeak.

"What's up?" Dave asked, a bit worried considering the marquee of emotions that had played across Kurt's face.

"Quinn is doing well after the surgery. They'll be taking her off the sleep meds at midnight. Should be awake by the middle of the week," he told Dave.

"She's a fighter," Dave said, squeezing Kurt's bicep quickly before grabbing his hand back. "She's gonna be fine."

"Physically yeah, but," he paused and bit his lip, "I just, no one stays the same after something like this. Everything's going to be different." He closed his eyes tightly and seemed to have been talking to himself. Dave reached out and put a hand on Kurt's back, rubbing lightly. "But alas, that's another trail for another day. I don't want to dwell on that right now. I had a good time today, David. Thanks for having me over."

"No problem, like my dad said before you're welcome anytime."

Kurt smiled slightly and turned to leave.

It isn't until Friday during lunch that there's a frenzy between the gleeks and one by one they were bursting into exclaims and loud conversation.

"Let's go, let's go, she's awake, get fuckin' moving!" Santana was ushering Kurt from where he'd been standing waiting for Blaine.

"She's awake?" Kurt jumped up, heart racing in his chest.

"Yeah Nikky just texted me, she's awake, well she was, she assed out again already thanks to those wonderdrugs. But Judy's talking to the docs about moving her out of ICU so she can have more than one visitor at a time. He isn't too gung-ho, apparently, but no one says 'no' to a Fabray so hopefully by tonight we'll be able to see her."

* * *

None of the gleeks had been in to her ICU room, not even Santana or Brittany, since Judy and Nicole were always there. Not that they minded, especially when the days were creeping slowly by and Quinn still hadn't woken up. The doctors assured them that there was no physical reason she should still be asleep, and that Quinn would come to when she was ready. Kurt figured doctor's worry about covering their asses too much to be wrong about this, and waited it out (almost) patiently.

He spent a lot of time that week at home with Finn and Rachel, who was still a bit of a wreck and susceptible to start sobbing at the drop of a hat. Blaine had come by on Wednesday, and things still felt stilted.

"How's Karofsky," he asked about ten minutes after arriving. They hadn't said more than greetings and talked about how they're been ("eh, tired." "yeah, me too.) before they falling into silence.

"His name is David, Blaine." Kurt rolled his eyes but continued. "He's doing better every time I speak to him. Sounds like he's looking forward to things."

David and Kurt had been texting every day, sometimes holding hour long conversations that made Kurt grateful for his unlimited texting plan.

"Hmm, like what?" Blaine asked, and Kurt didn't detect any malice in the question.

"Returning to McKinley, oddly enough. He starts again next Monday," Kurt told him, and Blaine gave him a pinched look.

"It's not strange. You're at McKinley, why wouldn't he be looking forward to it."

Kurt's brow furrowed, and he still couldn't detect malice in Blaine's voice, but there was definitely something. Was it boredom?

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that Karofsky's feelings for you are old news, and now you've given him rope and he's gonna ha-"

The silence got very thick and Kurt suddenly had the urge to leave - and they were in his room.

"I told you, his name is David," he said icily, and then sighed. He had seriously had it up to here with fighting with Blaine. "Do you want to watch a movie?" he asked, hoping a distraction would soothe the tension.

Blaine, who had pressed his lips together to stop the highly distasteful sentence just nodded, sucked in a breath, and asked, "What are the choices?"

They'd spent the rest of the evening sharing perfunctory comments about the movis and when they said goodbye, Blaine giving him a quick kiss on the forehead, Kurt's stomach was so twisted he couldn't even stomach his nightly tea. (Kurt wondered idly whether or not they were pent up from not having been intimate with each other recently, but he couldn't remember a time since opening THAT Pandora's Box that he'd been less in the mood.)

He was pulled back to the present by Santana jostling him and practically growling, "Hummel if you don't get your ass in gear so help me," and he jumped, moving quickly to follow the rest of the group out of the cafeteria.

"If we can't see her until tonight why are we all leaving now?" he questioned when he caught up with Finn and Rachel.

"Don't ask questions dude, we get to miss school and Quinn's awake. Just enjoy," Finn drawled out, his trademark grin shining down on Kurt. Rachel was nearly skipping and Kurt felt his lips quirking up. Finn was right. Quinn was awake and Kurt felt giddy laughter bubbling in his chest. Maybe hope wasn't such a bad thing after all.

The high of the good news died after they'd spent two hours in the hospital, watching the volleys between Judy and various hospital personnel. Quinn had been moved into a room quicker than anyone expected, but Judy had been able to use the doctor's reassurances against them, claiming that if she really was healing as well as they expected then what was the problem, and to hell with hospital policy. Her daughter had a lot of people who've been itching to see her and she deserved to have her first moments of lucidity in a better environment than the hustling ICU.

Brittany had various pictures she was waiting to hang in the room when Quinn was finally given one, Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury had brought flowers and Ms. Sylvester had sent a huge arrangement.

So she was moved and the gleeks waited for her to get settled. She woke up just as Judy, Nicole, Brittany, and Santana walked in. She smiled at them, but it was more of a grimace. Then her eyes seemed to glaze over and while she nodded along with what they said, she hardly seemed to notice their presence.

Santana and Brittany left the room, Nicole telling Quinn she had to leave Sunday night because of school but she'd be back for break in three weeks. Once again Quinn nodded, even squeezed Nicole's hand when Nicole clasped it and kissed her forehead. But her eyes were directed out of the window as if looking for something.

When Rachel, Finn, and Kurt walked in Judy had excused herself to go get some coffee, looking like a lost child. Mercedes, Sam, Artie, Mike, and Tina had decided to come the next day to try not to overwhelm Quinn, but Kurt wasn't sure what the point was. He was worried about Puck, out in the corridor pacing endlessly and awaiting his turn.

Quinn glanced up when they walked in and whispered, "Thanks for coming," before turning back to the window.

"Quinn," Rachel whispered, moving towards the bed. Finn followed after her, holding onto her hand as she lowered herself into the chair and reached her free hand for Quinn's undamaged one.

"I'm so, so sorry Quinn," she choked out, tears once again falling down her cheeks. Kurt watched it all from the doorway, the brick in his stomach seeming to make his whole body too heavy to move.

"How was the wedding?" Quinn asked like she hadn't heard Rachel speak. Rachel's breath hitched and she let out a little sob but no acknowledgement flickered over Quinn's face. Her hand stayed limp in Rachel's.

"The wedding didn't happen, something more important came up," Finn prompted.

"Hmm," Quinn breathed out, and that was the last reaction they got out of her for the rest of their visit.

Kurt had kept himself calm, made sure his voice was steady when he told Quinn he'd see her soon, but when he reached the men's room he was clutching the bathroom sink so hard his knuckles were white and his chest heaved with quick, shallow breaths.

He had been right, everything was different now.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and make no profit off of these works of fiction. I submit them only because the title of this show is false advertising and I need to do something to bring the happy back.

* * *

Dave's first day back at McKinley was free of any harassment, bigotry, or comments about The Incident- a fact that might have been a cause for a celebration if it weren't for the entire atmosphere of the school; the hallways were muted and when Dave looked around he felt like he'd stepped out of Oz into Kansas, and all of the color in the world was gone.

"It's been like this since the accident," Kurt informed David after they'd met up for lunch and Dave had wondered aloud at the gloom and doom mood. "I think everyone's mostly struck by the concept of mortality. With everything that's gone on..."

Dave nodded, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the prospect that he had probably had a something to do with the tensions in the halls. This was confirmed when he finally noticed the looks he was getting when he walked into the cafeteria, like he was some sort of exotic animal in an exhibit.

Blaine sidled up to them and Dave held in the huff at his presence as he sat down across from the pair, reaching into his backpack to pull out his iPod and lunch bag. Kurt sent him what looked like almost an apologetic look before Dave stuck in the ear buds and started picking at his sandwich, ignoring the world around him.

In the week since Kurt and he had hung out Dave hadn't really heard much about the curly haired hobbit (although that seemed an insult to Tolkien) and had experienced even less exposure to his actual presence. He'd dropped Kurt off the day before and he and Dave had exchanged stiff waves, but Dave realized now that he was going to school with them again he was faced with the prospect of watching them be couple-y all the time.

There went his already half-hearted appetite.

He'd been feeling a bit better since he deleted his Facebook and made plans with his dad to transfer back to McKinley. He attributed his almost good mood (as long as he avoided certain trains of thoughts) to being able to lounge about the house (he hadn't spent much time in his room, though) and regularly correspond with Kurt.

Between their habitual texting (he'd learned that Kurt's favorite cereal is, secretly, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, but that he made himself eat Kashi to avoid any future heart problems; his favorite color is turquoise; his favorite off the cuff artist is Jeff Buckley, though he'd never have the guts to sing one of his songs; and his favorite designer is Alexander McQueen, may he rest in peace) and their meeting on Sunday he felt almost at peace with everything that had led to this point

That day they'd made a list of possible group members (mostly the Glee club for the GSA, and they added family members, including Dave's cousin Sonia who lived two counties over, to the PLFAG list), possible teacher moderators for the GSA (they decided on Bieste), then spent about an hour googling possible fundraising events and the How To's of starting a chapter.

"This all feels very surreal," Dave had said, still chuckling over their discussion on having their possible opening celebration at Scandals on their drag night. "We're really doing this, huh?"

"Yeah," Kurt turned away from the screen to appraise Dave, who felt his cheeks warm under the scrutiny. "You okay with this? I mean, we still don't know how things are gonna go when you come back to school-"

"Why, have you heard something?" Dave asked, anxiety hitting fast, licking at his neck and chest, hands gripping the bottom of his shirt.

"No, nothing like that," Kurt reassured quickly, giving Dave a small shrug. "Everyone's been sort of preoccupied with... the accident. I just meant that, with you coming back to school I don't want to pressure you..." he took a moment to collect his thoughts. "I know I asked you to be involved but if you think it'll be too much just let me know, okay?"

"Sure... I think I can handle it though." Dave paused. "I mean it'll be a safe space, right?"

Kurt nodded. "Hopefully, yes. The remaining bullies have given the Glee club some problems but I haven't been personally targeted since prom so that's a good sign right?" Dave gave a nod/shrug thing and Kurt continued. "And we do have quite a few people who'll be backing us up."

Kurt motioned towards the black and white proof that he and Dave weren't alone in this.

Dave took a long look at the list detailing the names of the New Directions and TroubleTones, various family members, a couple of the cheerleaders Kurt and Mercedes had gotten to know, David's cousin and dad, a few staff members...

"Right, so there's all that." He shrugged again, pulling up the spare chair and sitting next to Kurt and grabbing what he'd been waiting for from the whirring printer. "I can do this. I really want to, since I kinda feel like it's the only thing I got going for me."

"David-"

"Now that I'm not doing sports and that's how I've defined myself forever it's gonna be hard, and I'm still kinda shitting bricks about joining Glee, excuse my French," Kurt rolled his eyes and Dave smirked, relaxing again. "But I have a good feeling about this," he added.

"Mm, plus it will look excellent on a college application," Kurt chimed in, studying David's face closely. He seemed satisfied with what he saw because he turned back to the PFLAG website and went back to business.

Dave was pulled out of his musing when Mercedes sat down next to him. He didn't turn off his music, just sort of gaped to himself when she gave him a small smile before turning to Blaine and Kurt and joining in on their conversation.

Shrugging off the strange feelings that went along with another of his ex-tormentee's showing him kindness (and ignoring the voice in his head saying that's not kindness, it's pity) Dave turned his focus back to his mutilated sandwich, missing the concerned look Kurt shot him before Mercedes corralled his attention, looking quite serious. From the snippets Dave caught over the music it seemed Mercedes wanted to do some sort of benefit for Quinn.

Dave lowered his music a bit, curious to hear more.

"I thought between her insurance and her dad the bills were covered?" Blaine asked, his furry eyebrows almost touching his shining hairline.

"I just spoke to Santana," Mercedes replied, voice dropping, "and apparently that- ugh no, I will not lose my temper," she seethed for a minute and Dave could almost feel her anger. "Apparently he said that if he has to foot any hospital bills he's gonna use Quinn's college fund." Kurt and Blaine's mouths dropped open, Kurt making a sound like an angry cat. "Seems to think Quinn deserves to understand the consequences of her actions once and for all, says it's her own fault she got into the accident in the first place-"

"He said that to Quinn?!" Kurt shouted, his eyes glowing, cheeks turning red.

"No, Santana heard him saying it to Judy in the waiting room before she kicked out the little," whatever Mercedes was dubbing Mr. Fabray was indecipherable, but with the now palpable rage flowing off of her they got the gist of it. "He's just lucky Puck was in the cafeteria," she grumbled out.

"What is with all these shitty parents," Dave wondered aloud, and he hadn't even realized he'd spoken until everybody looked at him.

"Well it's true," he defended himself against their surprised looks. "Look at Rachel's parents, or Kurt, your parents. They love and support you guys no matter what. And then you've got Quinn's dad pulling that crap and my mom-" he cut himself off, trying to ignore the ache and focus on the anger. "I just don't get why they even had kids in the first place."

They were all quiet, looking uncomfortable and unsure as to how to respond to that, and Dave breathed a sigh of relief when Rachel chose that moment to unceremoniously drop down next to Kurt, Finn sitting next to her. Finn greeted everyone while Rachel hid behind her hair.

"Rachel?" Mercedes said her name softly, and Rachel answered with a 'Hmm.'

"Um I need your help with something," Mercedes spoke softly, trying to catch Rachel's eye as she stirred her soy yogurt.

Rachel's head snapped up, revealing her red rimmed, puffy eyes and pink tipped nose.

"What's wrong now?" she questioned harshly, and Finn was instantly rubbing circles on her back and whispering soothingly in her ear. Dave watched the display and realized that that right there, girls being batshit crazy and dramatic, was one reason to be grateful for being gay. He held in his chuckle knowing it wouldn't be appreciate by the table.

When he tuned back in Rachel was crying, stammering about Quinn's future, and how could he, and he actually felt for the girl. She wasn't so bad, and she obviously really cared about her friends...

Dave was struck by an idea, and he thought he might be losing it again. But maybe, just maybe, she too, would forgive him his bullying and he could, like, recruit her to help him prepare for his big Glee audition. Fuck knew the chick needed something to keep her mind off of things, though he knew she had to be plenty busy with the benefit and Nationals and school. He'd heard from Kurt that she was even tutoring Puck, which heightened his respect for her even more.

He didn't know much about Berry but he knew the tern "high strung" fit her to a T, so she probably needed more distractions than the average person. Not to mention that Dave was gonna need all the help he could get if he was actually going to sing in front of people. And he just could not bring himself to ask Kurt.

Dave watched as Kurt and Blaine had turned to face Rachel and were sort of half spooned so they could both reach her, hands rested together on her arm (the two bits of sandwich he'd managed to swallow down seemed to bubble in his stomach), Finn's hand still rubbing a crying Rachel's back, Mercedes holding her hand across the table as tears flowed down her cheeks as well; they were all so comfortable and natural as they interacted and cared for each other- Dave felt the jealousy rise up and turned his music back up.

The Pearl Jam cover of "Love Reign O'er Me" began playing and Dave silently snorted at the sick cosmic joke his life sometimes felt like.

* * *

Puck had spent the whole weekend at the hospital, visiting hours and hovering mothers be damned, but he hadn't spoken to Quinn since he'd first arrived. Or rather, the facsimile (another of Rachel's word) of Quinn laying in the hospital bed and staring out of the window with shuttered eyes.

After Finn, Rachel, and Kurt had left the hospital Friday evening Puck had stared at the door for at least fifteen minutes wondering why he'd chosen to see her alone in the first place. Things had been strained, even more so if possible, between them at the best of time, and since everything that went down with Shelby... Yeah. He wanted to tell her about his e-mail to Shelby, but until he could talk to Shelby he didn't want Quinn jumping to conclusions.

With that decision made and his fifth repetition of, "You're an ambadassador dude, you can handle this," he pushed the door open quietly and saw Quinn lying there with her eyes closed. Her left hand looked like something out of a sci-fi movie, the left side of her head bandaged up. The bruises not obscured by gauze on her cheek and forehead had faded almost completely and Puck was seized with the urge to run his fingers over them.

He literally shook the thought out of his head before plopping into the chair next to the bed, a whoosh of air rushing from his lungs. He scrubbed both hands over his face and when he pulled them away Quinn was staring at him, expressionless.

She blinked a few times and moved to adjust her position, grimacing in pain at the pull of her collarbone.

"The hell Q, lie still," Puck huffed out, reaching over to help rearrange her pillows, stopping when she nodded.

"Thank you," she said, but her voice sounded robotic and her eyes drifted to the window.

He glanced between her and the window as a few birds built a nest on a phone pole outside, needing desperately to break the silence. What was he doing?

"I'm really glad you're okay," he sort of grunted out, and instantly wished he could take it back when Quinn let out a half gasp, half laugh.

"Yeah, I'm okay," she whispered. "I'm O-K." She said it like it was some sort of punch line.

"You're alive, I think that means somethin'," he returned, a touch of annoyance in his voice. Did she not realize how much worse it could've been?

"Yes Puck," she whispered, still looking out of the window but Puck can see the tears in her eyes. If he didn't feel so off kilter he would be relieved to finally get an emotional reaction out of her. She let out another watery, choked, and completely humorless laugh. "I'm alive so I can fully appreciate, once again, losing everything."

Puck sat frozen. Shit. He wasn't really good at this emotions stuff, and he thought to himself that it would have been better if this had happened while Rachel was here.

"No Glee, no Cheerios- nothing," she continued, and just as Puck was about to respond she squeezed her eyes shut, letting out a hiss of breath. When she opened them they were void once again. "I shouldn't be surprised."

"You still have Yale though," he said, trying to hide his resentment. She was still going to get the hell outta dodge.

A minute passed with no response from the blonde.

"I'm sure your leg'll be 100% by then... do they have cheerleading at that prep school for smokin' hot brainiacs?"

Still no response. Puck let out a quiet growl of frustration, not knowing what he could do. He opened his mouth, not sure what he was going to say, when her eyes closed again, breath evening out. Puck tentatively reached out hold her hand.

"You'll be getting out of here soon, Q, just hold on," he whispered, and he wasn't sure if he was talking about the hospital or the dark place she had fallen in to. Either way, he resolved, he was going to make sure it happened.

Saturday afternoon Puck was startled awake by the ringing of his cell phone, cringing when he noticed Quinn watching him with her empty eyes.

"I'll be right back," he mumbled, unfolding himself from the chair. When she just continued staring he strode out into the hallway, passed by an equally stoic Judy as she walked in.

He walked down the hallway, answering the phone. "Hello?"

"How is she?"

Puck sighed. "Her body's healin' pretty good but she's, I dunno, broken or something."

"Like that poor girl needs more hardships," Shelby lamented, and Puck took the opening.

"Yeah well, that kinda why I called..."

* * *

It had been two weeks and four days since Quinn had woken up, and everyone in the club had worked hard to assure that someone went to see her every evening.

Mr. Schue and Coach Sylvester had been down the hall when the news had reached the wedding party, and while they had heard the commotion they'd no idea what had happened. Mr. Schuester called Rachel, but it went straight to voicemail. Sue had wandered to the bathroom, a feeling in her gut not attributed to the baby making her nauseous.

They'd stuck together until Will finally received a call from Burt letting him know had happened. In shock he relayed the information to Sue who'd looked stricken. He told Sue that Burt was going to keep him updated and offered her the elder Hummel's number but Sue informed him she had Judy on speed dial and would keep herself informed.

They parted ways and Will had steeled himself before heading home to break the news to Emma.

Once it was asserted that Quinn would be asleep for a few days, at least, and being kept informed by multiple people, Will, Emma, and Sue had decided against loitering at the hospital until she woke up but sent a few flower arrangements to brighten up her room.

Three days after she woke up Will was subjected to her physical injuries and icy demeanor for the first time. He felt his chest tighten, for once unsure how to reach one of his students. He and Emma had spent an hour there, both trying to coax a response from Quinn until she either fell asleep or feigned it. They left, but returned at least twice a week, with or without other members of New Directions.

Sue had taken to visiting when no one else was around (she was like some sort of ninja, the nurses hadn't even seen her) and giving Quinn status updates on the Cheerios, trying on multiple occasions to browbeat her into giving a reaction. So far it wasn't making a difference, but Sue was a bundle of hormones on a good day as of late. No way in hell was she giving up on Quinn. Not again.

Quinn seemed to drift in and out of awareness of her surroundings, maybe exchanging two or three sentence volleys with whoever was visiting, usually when they first arrived, before falling into silence, eyes staring unseeingly outside. The club members being who they were, though, forged ahead admirably.

They were also meeting every day after school, for at least an hour, to organize the benefit, maybe once a week practicing their scales, every couple of days someone would sing a song to convey their current feelings- they were either extremely depressing or hopeful and uplifting.

When the group had first approached Judy she'd been quite adamant about refusing the money, but when Santana - THE Santana Lopez - had yelled at her in Spanish and then broken down, the yelling dissolving into bilingual whimpering, she'd quickly changed her tune.

On Tuesdays after Glee adjourned Dave would meet Kurt at the Hudmel home, (the re-introductions to Mr. Hummel had been painfully awkward but only on Dave's part; Kurt later explained, when Dave had been all 'WTF, why is your Dad who hates me smiling and being NICE?!', that he'd gone to his father with a prepared and detailed monologue about how much Dave had changed, but he'd barely gotten out 'Dad, I've been spending a lot of time with David lately,' before his dad had sighed and caught Kurt in a tight hug. 'You are your mother's son,' he'd spoken against the top of Kurt's head before releasing him, and with an, 'I'm proud of you,' he'd left Kurt standing in the kitchen wondering when the pod-person transfer had occurred) for further PFLAG/GSA discussions. Sometimes Blaine was there, but he spent a lot of the time texting while ostensibly doing his homework while Kurt spent as much time trying not to look bothered by it.

Dave hadn't witnessed much PDA between the two besides handholding and scattered kisses on the cheek and forehead, and while he couldn't help but be grateful, it also made him intensely curious. They'd seemed the touchy feely type when he'd seen them together in the past.

Thursdays were the days that tested Dave the most, though. After getting out of Glee, Rachel (AND Mike AND Brittany, like whowhatwherewhen?!) would show up at his house to help him prepare for his big debut. When he'd first approached Rachel and told her what song he was going to perform her face had lit up (and Dave had been happy to see her smiling, yeah, but he'd also been a little terrified) and she'd announced, like it was common sense, that no Sinatra song could be performed without dancing, except maybe 'New York, New York'. Apparently she'd been quite serious, bringing Mike and Brittany along to spice up the whole shebang.

"You never know when this training will come in useful," she'd repeat every time Dave complained about the stupid step-ball-changes, and just before, he was sure, the steam started pouring out of his ears she'd prod him with a pointy finger, saying, "Just admit you're having a good time, and remember that you asked me to do this; now concentrate," and he'd chastise himself for acting ungrateful and try again.

By some serious miracle, considering Berry was involved, he'd been able to keep this information from Kurt, wanting it to be a surprise. He was scheduled to perform the upcoming Friday and he kept oscillating between excited and terrified.

Trying to bring himself back to the moment Dave grabbed up his phone to check the time. It was almost four thirty so Kurt should be getting out of Glee any minute. Dave put his phone down to go grab his sneakers and jacket when the tinny ringtone version of "Born This Way" started playing.

"Hey, how was Glee?" he greeted, just like he did every Tuesday.

"It was good. We figured out who's closing the show and settled on the date, which means we were finally able to put in the orders for the tickets and event booklets. The show will be the Saturday after next," he rushed out, "but never mind that. I'm so sorry to do this David, especially since we were going to schedule the first ever GSA meeting, but I'm going to have to ask for a rain check."

"Uh, yeah, no problem," Dave answered, struggling to keep his tone even. His Tuesday meetings with Kurt had already become an engrained part of his new schedule. What was he supposed to do instead?

"Is tomorrow alright?" Kurt asked, oblivious to Dave's panic.

"Sure, yeah, tomorrow is good." He was supposed to see Sonia tomorrow but he figured she would understand. Maybe she would be able to hang out today instead, keep Dave busy. He'd been avoiding free time, and his bedroom, like the plague. Thankfully they had a fully furnished guest room. He figured he'd survive sleeping in there until college, or until the memories weren't so fresh.

"David?" Kurt's voice rang out, followed by a huff like he'd been ignored. "I am really sorry, but-"

"It's no problem," Dave practically shouted, not being a fan of hearing Kurt apologize. Kurt should never feel guilty about anything he did to Dave, after everything. Dave bit his own tongue to keep from saying that, though- Kurt never responded well to things like that.

"Tomorrow when you get out of Glee?" If Dave sounded eager for assurance it was simply due to wanting to finally get the GSA up and running, nothing else.

"Tomorrow," Kurt affirmed. "We'll meet with Coach during our Thursday free period, instead of tomorrow. I'm a little scared to face her without a date set," he chuckled.

"Good idea. She seems even more excited about this than Rachel," Dave observed, laughing lightly himself, actively trying to squelch the still rising panic at his open evening.

"Thus the avoidance, David," Kurt said, mock condescendingly.

Dave laughed again, "I get it, believe me. Never had to do it myself but I watched her run a few kids so hard they puked."

"Ugh I missed that fun when Tanaka was Coach, good thing I gave up kicking. Also, thank you for the visual" Kurt said, sounding disgusted.

"I take it back, sorry to offend," he replied solemnly, holding back a smirk even if Kurt couldn't see him.

"As well you should," Kurt replied as snootily as possible before dropping the ball. "I really do have to go, though," he reminded Dave.

"Right," Dave sighed. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Mhm, talk to you later, David."

"Bye," Dave said, staring at the phone for a second before shaking himself slightly, clicking through his contacts to call his cousin.

* * *

Kurt hung up the phone, wondering for the millionth time at the way talking to Dave could allay his nerves sometimes, and was about to steer himself away from THAT line of thought before a familiar voice did it for him.

"Hey, you ready to go?" Blaine inquired, his eyes on Kurt's phone.

"Um actually, could we talk on the bleachers?" he requested, wanting to forego the crowd and four walls of the Lima Bean. The nerves were back, and with them came a feeling of claustrophobia.

"It's freezing out," Blaine said, a confused look on his face.

"I know but I'd like some fresh air. And these jacket aren't just for fashion," Kurt motioned between their two torsos.

Blaine shrugged and nodded. "Why not."

They walked in silence to the football field while Kurt thought about how they'd gotten here. Today after Glee they'd shared a goodbye kiss and when they'd pulled away their eyes had met - in that moment they both seemed to come to some sort of conclusion, and Blaine had asked if there was anything Kurt wanted to tell him. Kurt had mimicked the question, annoyed at the tone Blaine had wielded. When his boyfriend's eyes darted to the floor before landing on his again, he felt knots form in his stomach. Blaine had simply said, "Coffee?" Kurt nodded before telling Blaine he needed to make a call and walked back into the empty choir room, fingers dialing Dave.

In the here and now they settled into the bleacher and the silence, though something they were both aware of, wasn't quite uncomfortable.

"I think we're both being a little overdramatic right now," Blaine finally said, a hint of amusement in his otherwise weary tone. "We've always been comfortable and never had to tiptoe around one another. Okay, I'll start," he took a deep breath, clasping both of Kurt's hands and locking their eyes together. The knots pulled at Kurt's insides.

"We love and respect each other, those are facts, right?" Kurt nodded in response, and Blaine seemed to take heart from the move, although Kurt noticed his palms seemed a bit clammy. "So I trust that you would never do something with the intention of hurting me, but I also understand that things happen and it can be unavoidable."

"Okay..." Kurt let out slowly, forehead knitting together, not sure where the younger man was going with this.

"Do you believe the same with me, Kurt? That I would never do something out of malicious intent to hurt you, but as they say, 'the best laid plans'?"

"What are you talking about?" Kurt bit out, sick of talking in hypotheticals.

"Just that you and I- we were each other's firsts in more than one way and you're my best friend, my confidante-"

"Your lover; or I was," Kurt added in, not liking where this was headed.

Blaine sighed, releasing Kurt's hands and shaking his head.

"I'm not the only one who's been closed off," he replied, looking mournfully dejected.

"So you admit it? It's not... you know things have been tough lately, with everything that's happened."

"Yes, and of course I'm aware. I'm living it too, you know," Kurt looked offended that Blaine thought he was insinuating otherwise. "That came out wrong, I'm sorry. It's just, two people who are in love help each other through the tough times. You and I have been using silent communication more often than not lately, like when I almost asked why you haven't gone to see Quinn, or when you almost answered." Kurt looked away and set his jaw at that. "And since you brought it up, let's talk about why we haven't slept together, why we've barely even kissed, recently."

"Might have something to do with how you've been practically attached to your phone, aka Sebastian, and he's who you're going to for comfort?" Kurt suggested accusingly, steering them away from the subject of Quinn. He just - couldn't.

"What's David doing tonight without you to keep him company?" Blaine replied, the same resigned and weary note in his voice. Before Kurt, who looked to be caught out and flailing for a response could reply, Blaine spoke again.

"Maybe I should resent him, and maybe you should resent Sebastian but..." He grabbed up one of Kurt's hands again, this time squeezing almost painfully, "Look at everything that's happened. Why should we hold on the bad feelings when there is so much good to feel? Why should we keep pretending we're happy when we can admit that maybe we're not as IN love as we thought? You and I will always have that place that only we know, babe," he said, tears forming in his eyes, and Kurt's own vision started to blur. "But I don't think we make each other happy; not the way we both deserve."

Kurt shook his head slowly, two fat tears rolling down his cheeks. Blaine wiped them away which only caused more to fall.

"You do though, you've made me so happy Blaine," Kurt whispered, his voice hoarse.

"And you, Kurt, have done so tenfold. I'm a better person because I know you, ya know?" his tears belying his weak smile.

"So why does anything have to change? Are you, did you fall in love with him?" Kurt didn't want to hear it, but he needed to know.

Blaine shook his head, but then he shrugged.

"He makes me feel something I've never felt before, so maybe?" Blaine looked out at the football field, not catching the wince Kurt let out at hearing that. "He's-"

"I don't want details. A yes or no would have sufficed," Kurt spat, moving to stand up.

"Wait, no I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be insensitive. It's not like I want to hear the reasons behind why you're blushing half the time you're texting Dave," he said, and Kurt was morbidly glad to hear just a little bitterness.

"It's not like that," Kurt denied, because it wasn't.

"Maybe it should be," Blaine said, face serious, and Kurt suddenly felt like he was outside of his own body, watching his life through a lens, a caption read 'Twilight Zone' fluttering on the bottom of the screen.

There was a tense moment where Blaine looked steadily back at Kurt's 'Are you another pod person?' expression with a 'What, somebody had to say it,' response before he grabbed Kurt up in a hug.

"I'm sorry Kurt, it just didn't seem fair. If I can feel this way for someone else - " Kurt cut him off with a squeeze before Blaine pulled back. "But I want you to be happy, too."

"I guess I, ah, understand," Kurt responded reluctantly, tear filled eyes downcast. "Do you plan on returning to Dalton?"

Kurt looked up at the noise Blaine made, a very ungraceful snort and slightly offended huff mixed together.

"You mean leave my very best friend - that would be you - and miss out on the upcoming PFLAG and GSA, AND skip on Nationals? Just because I think we're- well, the answer is no. You won't get rid of me that easily."

"Good," Kurt answered, and they sat there quietly, holding each other, letting the knowledge of what just passed sink in. Slowly they drifted apart but neither of them moved to leave, and they fell in to conversation about the GSA and how Bieste had demanded a start date by tomorrow. When Blaine said Dave's name, his first name, in regards to the club with no hint of resentment or irony, Kurt felt the knots unfurl slightly.

The words "break up" had been steadily avoided, but Kurt knew it had happened. And Kurt knew he'd be mourning this for a while, but he admired Blaine's honesty and knew that he, too, had to be hurting. A small part of him he was trying his best to ignore felt almost relieved.

Using Blaine, someone a year younger than him, as an example in maturely handling his first break up (although he knew it had to be a weird one, the way it was mostly undramatic, almost nonchalant) and reminding himself that he still had Blaine almost the same way he did before, Kurt asked what Sebastian was doing since they'd lost Regionals.

It was almost rewarding to see the surprise on Blaine's face before he answered, and when Kurt noticed the affection in Blaine's eyes he felt a slight stab of jealousy but he also found himself wondering if that was how he looked when he spoke about David.

* * *

Oh, and in case you can't tell, this is all un-beta'd, so don't be too harsh in your judgment of me, mkay? My only editor is Microsoft Word.

If you've made it this far, thank you, I love you, and YOU are why I write.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and I make no profit off of this. I've actually lost things to it, like sleep, bodily comforts, and possibly a piece of my soul. Nevermind that...

* * *

Dave knocked on the hospital door, pushing it open when no one responded.

After Sonia had reminded him that she had class on Tuesdays, which was why they were meeting tomorrow, he'd sat in front of the TV trying very hard to focus on James Dean. His fingers kept strumming against his thigh, and after his father asked him to stop tapping his foot for the fifth time Dave had popped up and thrown on his shoes. When his dad first opened his mouth Dave knew he was going to ask where he planned on going and he had no answer to give. But after his father had posed the question Dave had immediately answered, "To the hospital, to visit Quinn," like his body had known where he was going all along.

His dad had waved him off (with a raised eyebrow but no comment) and then he was an auto pilot driving to the hospital, trying not to think about how the last time he'd taken this route he'd been in an ambulance.

The beeping of the machines was only lending to Dave's morose thoughts when a quiet, flat voice said, "Hello."

The young man startled and stared for a moment, taking in the usually pristine girl's haggard appearance; gauze taped to the newly grown hair on left side of her head where Dave knew the skull fragment had been removed, the hair not shaved off pulled back in a careless, limp bun. Her hand was still covered in pins, and although her ribs were unwrapped almost totally healed she had be wary of her collarbone which still shot off lightning bolts of pain so strong they made her head spin. Dave kept himself updated through Ms. Pillsbury, whom he'd been meeting with once a week.

Dave blinked twice before remembering to speak. "Um, hey. Know it's kinda weird, me coming here but uh, I wanted to see how you were... er, that is, I just-"

"Never seen you nervous before," Quinn observed, and Dave grimaced at the statement, mostly because of the monotone voice that delivered it.

"Yeah," he agreed, and was again saved from his own awkwardness by Quinn looking away from him towards the door, before turning her head slowly towards the window.

Dave had heard them all talking about Quinn's unresponsiveness behavior and was almost glad for it. He took a seat in the chair by her bed, trying to figure out what had brought him here in the first place when she surprised him by speaking. Even more surprising, it sounded as if she were on the verge of tears.

"Can you tell Kurt that I was wrong, and I'm sorry? I really can't understand."

Dave stared at the right side of her head, but the small amount of her face he could see (and he was afraid to move lest it break the spell that was cast by revealing vulnerabilities, even ones that confused the witness- understand what?) looked as blank as it had been before she spoke.

"Why can't you tell him yourself?" he asked softly. It was the only thing he could think to say and he tried not to expect an answer.

"He doesn't visit me," she said, the tears gone from her once again detached tone.

Dave sat, nonplussed, his mouth forming a silent 'Oh?'

But he said nothing and they sat in a calm semi-silence (MTV was on, and even though it was low enough that the white noise was almost louder than the volume, every once in a while he'd hear Snooki's annoying ass voice) until Quinn fell asleep and Dave's stomach rumbled for a good thirty seconds. He checked his watch, saw that it was ten after 7, and decided to head home.

"I'm gonna go Quinn," he whispered to the sleeping young woman. "You have too much good in your life to give up, okay? ...We all do." He wondered if he'd said that for her benefit, his, or both, and tried to stifle the sob that wracked his frame, composing himself before he headed out.

As he walked, downcast and thoughts racing, through the parking lot he heard Puck's voice, which wasn't surprising considering the guy was yelling in to his cell phone.

"Damnit! She doesn't have another two weeks! ... HA! YOU are calling ME dramatic?!... She starts physical therapy as soon as they take out the screws but she barely even EATS, no way in hell do I see her actually giving a fuck about - ... She can't HEAR me! ... Then take me off speakerphone woman, I can't control what comes outta my mouth when I'm being faced with downright horseshit! ... That's why I told you about this right away! ... Screw your - Hi baby girl. Tell your ma that that was cold..."

Dave continued to his car, wondering what Puck was up to and quite glad for the distraction. Puck's yelling faded as he moved further away unnoticed. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and noticed texts from his dad ('chicken piccatta for dinner, done by 7'), Santana ('how come ur not whining to me non-stop about how awesome and untouchable loverboy is- did he tie u up? wankyyyy') and Kurt ('Sorry about this evening, but if Bieste corners me tomorrow I'm telling her it was your fault :P').

He responded to each ('hope you put a plate in the oven, be home soon'; 'hardy har, he had to reschedule, but thanks Satan. i really needed more ideas -_-'; 'Feeding me to the wolves already, Fancy? shoulda known better than to trust a guy who dislikes silent films') respectively, feeling better with every foot of space that separated him the hospital, starting his car before driving off.

He wasn't sure if that visit had been a good or bad idea, but he figured if he could manage a blush at Santana's non-so-subtle suggestion and a chuckle at Kurt's playful turn coating he must be alright. The memories may always hurt, and so will all of the future struggles he was sure to face, but like Jason Lee's character says in "Vanilla Sky" (his favorite modern film), you can't appreciate the sweet without the sour.

He definitely had some sweet in his life. Like butterscotch and brandy, or something.

He stared at himself in the rearview while at the longest red light in town, surprised that he still looked the same (not necessarily true- he'd been speed walking, now jogging, in the morning before school since his second day back and it was beginning to show; he felt healthier) when he felt as if his whole perspective had shifted. Turning up the tunes to ward off more introspection Dave waited out the mother of all red lights (with no intersection to turn off of, bastards) and sang along to "Thunder Road" at the top of his lungs.

* * *

Luckily for both boys Bieste didn't seek them out at all on Wednesday.

They'd skipped their meeting with her during their free period, instead meeting up to hide out in the library. Just as they had begun whispering ideas about which two days of the week had seemed best, trying to sort through their lists of who had and hadn't given them their availability, Rachel appeared from behind one of the bookshelves. Her claws sank into Dave's forearm before she pulled him up with surprising strength.

"I'll just be borrowing him, then," she said, and Kurt would have protested if it wasn't for a gleam in her eyes and secret little smile on her face. He'd only seen her look like this lately when she was singing in practice for their closing number for the benefit (which was the only song they'd yet to decide on... sometimes Kurt wondered how they'd ever gotten anything done, they were all dirty rotten procrastinators; even he hadn't figured out what solo he wanted to perform, felt more than a little selfish at singing for Quinn when he couldn't even look her in the (cold, ice cold) eyes).

Kurt watch the odd pair shuffle towards door, Rachel pulling David down to whisper something to him, and tried not to overthink his disappointment at losing time with the young man.

Dave didn't protest due to the fact that the knowledge that he'd be singing AND dancing in front of the Glee club (read: KURT) in a day and a half had left a perpetual sheen of sweat on his forehead all day, niggling in the back of his mind since he'd woken up.

Rachel informed him in a whisper, as soon as they were out of earshot of Kurt, that she wanted him to be comfortable performing in the auditorium and they would be rehearsing in there this period. Kurt still didn't know she and the dancing duo had been helping him prepare, so he tossed an, "I'll text you later," over his shoulder, a confused look plastered onto his face as he followed Rachel out of the library.

Dave and Kurt met up at The Lima Bean later that afternoon because the benefit slash Nationals rehearsals had been put on hiatus until Dave's audition Friday, after Rachel (quite adamantly, much to everyone's surprise) declared they'd have to wait to practice until Dave was there regularly so he wouldn't feel even more out of the loop. She then proceeded to demanded they all have their various solos and duets figured out by next Monday. The group had grumbled about how she was the captain, not the boss, but Mr. Schuester agreed with her and that was that.

"What did she want earlier?" Kurt inquired, curious beyond belief about what was going on with Rachel and Dave.

"She, er," Dave paused, hating that he was lying to Kurt, "wanted to interrogate me about my performance." There. That was a truth. "Make sure I actually had a song picked out and all." A half-truth, yes, and judging from Kurt's raised eyebrow he seemed to pick up on it not being the whole story.

But he let it drop with a simple 'hmmm' before pulling out the GSA contact list, a red dot next to everyone they already had availabilities for. Only three people's names remained, so they sipped on their coffees and made the calls, and after an hour and a half had nailed down a first meeting date.

"Alright, so 3:30-4:25 on Thursdays starting next week, and if Mr. Schuester wants to have Glee practice on Thursdays we can start at 4:45, which give us time for cleanup and such."

"Yep, sounds perfect. The Cheerios practice 5-7:70 on Thursdays 'cause of Coach Sylvester, erm, hormone treatments?" Dave clarified, although he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Oh you haven't heard? Guess it went on the backburner but still, absolutely devastating gossip; Sue Sylvester is having a baby!"

Dave's eyes widened comically and Kurt had to hold back a snort, waiting patiently for Dave's reaction which took about 1.7 seconds.

"With whose vagina?!"

Kurt absolutely did not giggle at Dave's face or the strange looks sent their way. "That seems to be a popular question," he replied solemnly.

"Huh," Dave let out. "Did not see that one coming."

"Really? You haven't you noticed the change in her? I guess I didn't get to appreciate the pregnancy glow when Qui-" Kurt cut himself off, changing directions. "But if pregnancy mellows Coach Sylvester, I wouldn't question it."

Dave thought about the conversation he'd had with Quinn; he still hadn't brought it up to Kurt. He wasn't sure if he was the right person for Kurt to talk to about not seeing Quinn, figured that's what Blaine was for. Dave was for GSA/PFLAG, and outside of that, talking about impersonal, light hearted things. Maybe Dave would mention it to Blaine, see if the kid could help.

Dave didn't notice that Kurt had fallen in to silence while his thoughts wandered, but Kurt was sipping his coffee and looked to be doing his own thinking.

When Kurt caught David watching him he smiled shyly before hiding it behind another sip of coffee and looking away (but not before he caught the blush on David's cheeks and the 'I think I love you' in his eyes).

They informed Bieste on Thursday that they would be having the meetings on Thursdays beginning March 29th. They informed everyone on the contact list and Kurt woke up the Friday of Dave's upcoming performance feeling accomplished, buzzing with tempered excitement about the soon-to-be-Gleek's "audition".

After school Kurt arrived at the choir room just as Blaine was walking up and they both looked at a sign saying, "Auditorium, Please" (in Rachel's handwriting with gold star, music note, and football stickers decorating the sheet) with raised eyebrows.

Kurt and Blaine gave each other a look, both of them sensing they were missing something.

"This, my dear friend, just became exponentially more intriguing," Blaine said, doing his best Robert-Downey-Jr-as-Sherlock-Holmes impression.

Kurt just took off towards the auditorium, the puzzle pieces all fitting together. He knew David and Rachel were up to something.

Most of New Directions were there, although Rachel (of course) but also, Mike, and Brittany were still missing when the house lights blacked out and the stage lights turned up.

Brad was playing the piano, what sounded like a vaguely familiar old jazz/swing song (no surprise there, it is David, Kurt thought), and was he wearing a fedora? And then - a voice rang out.

"Fly me to the moon, let me swing among the stars..."

Kurt sat transfixed as David & Rachel and Mike & Brittany danced out onto the stage, the boys wearing dashing dark grey suits and matching brimmed hats, the girls with old fashioned up-do's and retro black dresses with white polka dots. Their movements looked effortless, flowing so naturally, Dave's smooth baritone creating goose bumps along Kurt's arms.

Kurt watched with an almost painful smile as David spun Rachel out before pulling her against his chest.

"Fill my heart with song and let me sing forever more.  
You are all I long for, all I worship and adore.  
In other words, please be true. In other words, I love you."

The band played and the boys switched partners, David seeming totally at ease keeping up with Brittany, a smile stretched across his face (had he lost weight, Kurt wondered, as he admired the way David's body moved) as he laughed and danced with the blonde, looking like a character out of one of his favorite films.

As he sang the chorus one final time, the four did a wild flourish together that ended with the boys dipping the girls on the final 'you' and the girls tapping their outstretched foot to the final notes of the piano.

Everyone stood up and started applauding, allowing the four a bow, and then David one on his own, his cheeks a-glow, before they rushed the stage.

"That was great, man!"

"Thanks Sam."

"The only good part was Brittany's dancing. Can we go?"

"Aw Santana, that warms my heart, really. You are too kind."

"Was that really David Karofsky up there?" Artie wondered with a high five and grin.

"Nope, that was Rachel Berry's plotting come to fruition."

"I knew you could dance since last year but damn, white boy, you were pretty smooth up there."

"Thank you, Mercedes," Dave smiled kindly, glad that both of Kurt's best friend's didn't seem to harbor any anger towards him "Means a lot."

"Thanks dude," Finn said as he patted Dave on the back.

Dave quirked an eyebrow at him, the smile immovable from his face.

"I knew Rach was up to something, but it was making her so happy and she promised I'd find out soon enough... anyway, it's made her feel a lot better. She's visiting Quinn almost every night and comes home so sad. So thanks."

"Anytime," he said quietly, offering out his fist which Finn met swiftly.

"Your performance was great, by the way. Wouldn'ta guessed it was your first time on stage," Finn continued, all the while Kurt stood chatting with Rachel as she finally told him all about the secret Thursday rehearsals and David's (mostly) unwavering commitment and effort.

Kurt watched with new eyes while David and Finn, and then Puck, Sam, Mike, and Artie all fell into conversation about dancing and music, and then suddenly sports and school, and Kurt allowed them a few minutes as he basked in warmth at the sight of David integrating into their little group.

Just as he was about to approach them all to give his personal validations to David Blaine walked up to the ex-football player, saying something with a kind smile on his face. They shook hands and Blaine patted him on the back before commending the other performers.

Kurt was pretending to watch Brittany try to cajole Brad into modeling his hat when he caught David following and saying something to Blaine. Blaine answered before shaking his head and Dave looked between Kurt and Blaine before it seemed like he registered something (they'd been broken up for four days and nothing had really changed, except the handholding and sporadic kisses disappearing to be replaced by random shoulder bumps and once, in Glee, a head-on-shoulder moment) before he blinked it away and approached Kurt.

"So..." he began, and Kurt felt his stomach flutter in response to the nervous look on David's face. "What'd you think?" And if the gravelly, vulnerable tone was followed by the color rising on Kurt's cheeks, well, the stage lights were still shining on them, bright and hot. It's called a coincidence.

"It was beautiful, David. I'm really proud that you shared it with me- with us. It means a lot," Kurt spoke quietly, his voice drifting at the end as David looked earnestly into his eyes.

"Couldn'ta done it without you," Dave replied, voice still slightly husky and nervous. Kurt felt his eyes flutter.

"Excuse me, credit where it is due, please," Rachel interrupted, and with her voice came a flood of noise that had faded to a faint background buzz as Kurt had looked at David.

"You're right, sorry. I owe you, Rachel," Dave said sincerely, but Rachel shook her head with a beaming smile.

"Nope, I think we worked in trade," she replied in a quiet, serious, but happy tone. "You're quite the gentleman, Mr. Karofsky," she said, and curtsied to him cheekily before practically skipping over to Finn.

As they all slowly drifted towards the hallway, Kurt got an idea in his head and left David with a, "You really were amazing today. I'll see you on Sunday," and a squeeze to his hand.

Kurt was then off to the booth in the mall that sold bootleg movies if you knew the right password - more evidence that the people in Lima had no life and were nutballs crazy.

* * *

On Sunday Kurt changed things up and had asked Dave to come to his house instead. When Dave got to the Hudmel residence he was greeted by Finn.

"What's up man, where's the little woman?" Dave asked, not even trying to mask the affection in his tone. Rachel really grows on a person, like mold that cures a disease or something.

"Nicole just got back so all the girls went to the hospital," Finn explained. "But I'm goin' to Puck's to play COD 'cause Kurt took over the TV and silent films aren't my thing."

Dave gave Finn a strange look before he heard an indignant noise from the stairs.

"You've been with Rachel far too long and picked up the awful habit of spoiling things," Kurt said with a pout.

"Spoiling what? Are we watching a silent film about like, homoeroticism in the days of old?" Dave inquired, since their Sunday meetings were usually all business.

Finn made his signature scrunched up face, saying, "Uh yeah, I'm gonna get ready to go," before darting up the stairs, a pink hue on his cheeks.

Kurt was still chuckling and Dave let out an evil smirk before he gestured for Kurt to elaborate.

"So what is it?" he asked eagerly. He loved silent films. They were wonderous to him.

Kurt let out a long suffering sigh. "If you must know, I happened to purchase an illegal but quite stunning copy of "The Artist" and it, along with a bowl of popcorn and pretzels, are awaiting us in the TV room."

Dave's mouth dropped open before he tore off his sneakers, dropped his backpack and jetted into said room.

Kurt followed with an affectionate shake of his head and upward tilt of lips.

"I read up a little on this and tried not to spoil it for myself but there might be a couple, uhm, sensitive scenes in it for you?" Kurt wanted to make sure this didn't get ruined by the potentially triggering scenes. "Apparently the main character is a bit self-destructive," he emphasized.

"Really?" David queried. "All the previews made it look so happy."

Kurt shook his head with a smirk. "It's French, David. They don't really do perky."

Dave laughed and nodded.

"Go ahead and put it on. I think I'll be okay, thanks for the warning. I just can't believe you're about to watch a silent film."

"Yes well, the sacrifices we make for friends, right?" Kurt said with a soft smile, and didn't notice when Dave's own smile tightened imperceptibly at the 'f' word.

It was forgotten as Kurt and David shared a tissue box during the climax of the film, and when their hands met on the couch neither of them moved until the film had ended.

Kurt had even laid his hand on Dave's thigh during the more emotional scenes and it squelched most of the thoughts that had begun racing through his head.

It hit him when he got home and his cheeks ached from smiling while his balls ached from one too many aborted boners; he was really in way too deep.

* * *

Somewhere between leaving Kurt's house on Sunday and walking in to his first Glee rehearsal on Monday, Dave had agreed to perform a song for the benefit (texting Kurt when he's tired was a bad idea - after Kurt had countered Dave's 'I'm not comfortable singing a solo' with, 'I'll sing back up, it will be good practice for my range.' Dave couldn't think of a reason not to... but Dave had managed to sneak in a condition of his own, of course; couldn't sacrifice all of the power.)

The benefit was on SATURDAY. As in only five days away. Is this how they always functioned, Dave wondered aloud.

Finn's weak, "We perform better when we're loose," sounded like a bad idea to Dave, who was used to practicing things consistently.

Kurt nudged David softly. "It's not about the quality of the performance, ("Which will inevitably be great because we're all very talented. I should know," Rachel piped in) it's about the feeling behind it. You'll do wonderfully, David. I believe in you."

Dave snuck a glance at Blaine when Santana said, "God, you're making my teeth rot," but he seemed distracted by his phone, and Kurt merely rolled his eyes and directed David to a seat.

Everyone revealed their different performance ideas and they settled on an order before doing vocal warm ups.

They were going to open with a group performance of "Keep Holding On" and decided to practice that song today. Most of them still knew the words and were quick to remember the choreography. Brittany, Mike, Tina, and Rachel helped Dave, Sugar, and Rory after they'd run through it as a group a few times. Everyone else drifted to do their own thing; Finn was practicing a dance behind the closed office door while Puck sat in a corner, practicing the guitar chords and quietly singing the song Dave had suggest for him. Guy had been pretty withdrawn recently and Dave figured he'd sing the hell out of the song.

Artie was talking to Lauren Zizes in the hallway, who was going to be setting up cameras to film the show from a few different angles so they could make a nice video for Quinn.

As he watched the organized chaos around him Dave felt, for a moment, like he may never feel sad again as long as he had this. Rachel was infuriatingly correct: being a part of something special made him feel special. It was like for once he finally belonged, fit in somewhere, warts and all.

When he confided this in Santana as everyone was leaving, her saccharine response of, "If anyone belongs on the island of misfit toys it's you, big foot," does nothing to dull the light in his eyes. Then she pulled a sneak attack and smacked a kiss onto his cheek before wandering off to find Brittany. He really would never understand chicks.

The middle of the week got a little bumpy when the group was informed that on Tuesday evening the doctors had removed the pins from Quinn's left hand, and on Wednesday she was brought to her first session of physical therapy. Her leg was healed enough that she would be walk on a crutches soon but THAT couldn't happen until her hand was working better. As it was her collarbone was still healing as well, so they were relying on the wheelchair and flexing her legs the best they could every few times a day.

Dr. Swanson had informed a listless Quinn that her hand was healing well and that, aside from her physical therapist massaging and manually manipulating it (mindful of Quinn's still healing collarbone that made attempting to grab her own hand, not that she had, dangerous to it's still fragile state) her therapy would, at first, include her attempting to pick up blocks, before she could move on to a ball. Once she could grip the ball she would squeeze it to gain strength and dexterity. She was also looking forward to various other exercises in which she'd be picking up items of random size and texture.

"She's not doing it, though," Tina told them on Friday. She'd volunteered to miss the first GSA the day before to keep Quinn company and get an update from Judy and Nikky.

The turnout for the GSA had been even better than Kurt had expected, the tone of the group inquisitive and, if a little skeptical, completely open. Kurt wanted to avoid being long winded and instead they'd done some ice breaking exercises (that some people had mocked, at first, but ended up enjoying) to try to evoke a shared sense of trust and safety.

The biggest shock of the evening hadn't been Puck's teary eyes at a sophomore girl's recitation of her gay cousin's bashing, or Dave actually opening up about his suicide attempt, but the long embrace at the end of the evening on Kurt's doorstep.

"I must say, that was amazing. You were amazing," he'd summed up to David, those blue green, beautiful and haunting eyes shining up at the built boy, the streetlight gleaming in the corners of both. Dave had nodded with a wide smile in agreement, feeling so proud of what they'd accomplished. "You've grown so much David. I'm so, so happy you didn't-" Kurt choked up and practically dive bombed into Dave's arms where he'd been tightly embraced, breathing in David's oak and pine scent, until his father had swung the door open.

They'd pulled apart and Dave grunted out a, "'Night Kurt, Mr. Hummel," before taking off towards his car.

Burt, for his part, looked completely nonplussed before asking, "How was the meeting?"

Kurt sat in the choir room and forced himself to listen as Tina described the way Quinn would sit there and allow the physical therapist to massage and stretch out her hand, but when she was called upon to make an attempt with the blocks she would either bat them away or simply lay her scarred hand in her lap and go into ignore mode. Kurt wasn't sure how anyone else was handling things, but for his part he found himself either distracting from, or recklessly indulging in, the hub bub of emotions rattling around inside of him. They shifted day to day but they were always there, in some form, blaringly loud and dysfunctional.

Between worrying about Quinn, feeling guilty for neglecting visits to her, and trying to keep David compartmentalized as 'friend/teammate/fellow GSA student advisor', Kurt was having a hard time recognizing his life. He struggled most with the last task, especially when they were rehearing for the benefit and he would catch himself staring at David's arms, or his lips as they formed the lyrics, or his hand wrapped around the microphone...

It was all very distracting and Kurt was glad he'd chosen to stay home tonight so he could work on organizing his thoughts and feelings (either in to 'TO DEAL WITH' box or the 'IGNORE - DANGER' box) and rehearse his own solo for the benefit one more time. He couldn't believe David had talked him into singing it, but at the same time now that he thought about it, it was the only song that would have fit.

It was the fact that David seemed to know that that left him slightly breathless. Blaine used to suggest songs for Kurt to perform all of the time but they were always predictable, never songs that would force Kurt to break out of his box. The younger performer usually saved those sort of ideas for himself, Kurt thought, not unkindly. David seemed to cancel out Kurt's own ego, while his and Blaine's had seemed to rub against each other in an uncomfortable way, like bad fabric against sensitive skin.

Kurt chastised himself for comparing them (again; it kept happening) because there was no need for a comparison because David was just his friend.

Kurt wrapped up that thought bubble and stuffed it in the Ignore box, but it was a wriggling, stubborn thing. He knew it would get out again.

Saturday came quickly and the McKinley kids were beside themselves with the turnout. They'd charged $8 a head and every seat was filled. They'd advertised for it on Facebook and Twitter and people from every surrounding county had come out to support the young girl whose accident had broken the heart of a small town.

Lauren had agreed to sit with Quinn that night as everyone else was performing, and between her and Santana, Judy and Nikky had been convinced to go. (They later found out that the wrestler and Quinn had held a five minute long conversation about the hazards of Glee for your social standing, and Lauren even caught a hint of irony in the blonde's otherwise still empty tone, before she'd asked Lauren if she regretted leaving Glee. When Lauren had answered with a halting, "No... and yes," Quinn had nodded and ended the conversation by closing her eyes.)

* * *

Mr. Schuester announced the commencement of the production before the houselights slowly dimmed and blue and white lights lit the stage.

From the first note of "Keep Holding on" the audience was hooked. When that led in to "Shake It Out", Tina singing lead with nary a tremor of nerves, a number of audience members were on their feet, dancing, singing, and clapping along.

As the song faded the stage darkened before a lone spotlight landed on Sam with a guitar, whose acoustic rendition of "Simple Man" brought prickles of tears to many eyes. By the time Rory, Sam, Finn and Artie finished their accapella performance of "Danny Boy" there were tissues in most hands, including the awaiting performers backstage.

The hues of blue lighting changed to green as Puck approached the microphone, the spotlights disappearing and stage lights glowing to reveal the band and each male New Directions member behind him on stage.

As they performed "Running Up That Hill", Puck's voiced filled with obvious emotion, a light show danced with them, even further entrancing the audience so that by the time the applause for their spectacular number had simmered down there was an almost reverent hush as they waited for more.

"That's our cue," Kurt whispered to a slightly trembling David, who forced his feet to walk out to his mark. He couldn't really see the crowd over the spotlights that popped onto he and Kurt, but he could sense Kurt next to him and as the music of "Dust In The Wind" began to drift around him he allowed himself to get lost in the poignant song.

Dave was so focused on the swell of feeling that had built in him he didn't register the applause. Only Kurt's hand in his jarred him out of his haze and he bowed quickly, not even caring that he was wearing a dopey grin for all to see.

Kurt pulled him off the stage as Mr. Schuester took the mic to announced that the TroubleTones would be performing (to give New Directions a water/bathroom break) before they were to be treated with the dance styling of Brittany S. Pierce and Mike Chang.

Dave sipped his water as everyone chattered around him, Sugar's voice belting out the chorus of "Ironic" floating softly into the room when Mr. Schuester opened the door.

"Great news guys; between the ticket profits and donations we've collected, we've raised almost $2000. And we're only halfway through the donation envelopes, which keep coming in. I'm so proud of you guys! But I gotta go!" And he sped off back to the auditorium.

Before Dave knew what was going on everyone was huddled into a group hug, Rachel's stage makeup covered face pressed into Dave's back (good thing he had taken his jacket off) while Dave wrapped his arms around Santana's middle and squeezed, eliciting a squawk from the girl and earning himself a punch in the arm.

After they released one another Kurt drifted to the door where he was chatting with Mike and Brittany as they loosened up when Mr. Schue's head peeked back in. "You're on in 30," he said briskly to the dancers, and Kurt rolled his eyes at his teacher's dramatics before he told them to break a leg. The loss of chatter allowed the constricting tendrils of anxiety to creep up. Again. This was worse than the "Defying Gravity" drama.

"Would you stop, you look like you have ants in your pants," Dave spoke from his right, making him jump. "Still don't get why you're so worked up. You won't even tell anyone what you're performing. Even the programs say "A Surprise Performance by Kurt E. Hummel". I mean I knew you were a diva but-"

"Uh! It's a lot of pressure! This song is something of reverence, quite a lot to live up to. Maybe you don't realize quite how talented Jeff Buckley was," Kurt responded, going for condescending and landing closer to panicked.

"I may not know a lot but I know you always seem to supercede expectations, and I expect later you'll be trying to remain modest when everyone tells you how talented you are... not that they didn't know already. I mean aren't all those Broadway songs you sing classics? You never have a problem with them."

Kurt rolled his eyes to cover up the heat in his cheeks.

"C'mon, I sang Frank Sinatra, Fancy (the first time David had called him that during a good natured debate he'd instantly apologized, but he'd said it with blatant affection and Kurt had preened and instantly made him take back the apology; 'You think I'm fancy, David. It's an observation, not an insult.'). Ol' Blue Eyes is a lot to live up to, but I did it. And I'm not near as talented as you," Dave continued, and Kurt would have told him to stop sucking up if he didn't know that David really thought that to be one of life's rules; the Super Bowl was on a Sunday, watching Grey's Anatomy lost you an eyebrow (shoulda known then, yeah?), and Kurt Hummel sang better than any Broadway singer David had ever heard.

And then Rachel pulled her ninja routine of popping in out of nowhere. "Kurt, you're in charge. Finn's still a bit pouty on losing the solo in a Queen song so I'm trusting you to organize everyone. I'm on next, so you guys have two and a half minutes," she let out in one breath, nodding to herself before taking off out of the door just as the last beats of "Teardrop" echoed, clashing with the sound of her heels, down the hallway.

Kurt turned to David's flushed face and put a hand on the other boy's arm. The 'IGNORE – DANGER' box flew open and Kurt was hit with the memory of how nice it'd felt, being held in David's strong arms...

"I want to watch her sing so I'm gonna - " Kurt got his mind back to the task at hand and drifted to the group to get everyone moving, running about to check that they were all accounted for. But once they were backstage he couldn't help but drift over to David.

"Thank you," he whispered and, without overthinking, softly joined their hands together, interlacing their fingers while trying to slow his speeding heart.

Dave looked at Kurt with the same tenderness that was in Rachel's voice as she sang out "Keep Breathing", both of them finally looking away as the song built and then faded, tears twinkling on Rachel's cheeks like stars as she bowed before moving back to allow Santana to take center stage, joining the rest of New Directions as they got into position.

Finn had excitedly brought up "You're My Best Friend" as they'd tried to think of a cheerful group song and there'd been no objections until Finn had assumed he'd be singing lead. Santana had scoffed in his face, or like more accurately his chest. "I was her first friend when she transferred here. No one else gets to sing this song."

Kurt watched Santana sing as if Quinn was right in front of her, just shy of being vulnerable, and reminded himself he wasn't the only one stepping out of his comfort zone tonight.

They transitioned smoothly in to "Kings and Queens", a song Rachel thought up for Finn to sing lead on. He'd been mostly disappointed because Quinn had always referred to Queen songs as 'crowd favorites', but once he'd heard the lyrics he'd realized this song fit him and his ex-girlfriend much better.

Once again most of New Directions disappeared offstage and left Artie with the band as Brittany, Tina, and Rachel sang back up to his rendition of "I Don't Want to Be."

"I'm nervous, Kurt," Mercedes confided in a shaky whisper, already in place behind the curtain, waiting for her cue.

"You're going to kill it, 'Cedes," Kurt reassured.

"Yeah, if I don't start crying like a baby," she admitted, hugging Kurt before he wandered off to do some breathing exercises.

When she stepped on to the stage and belted out "Hero" Kurt lost count of his breaths as he watched in awe, crying the tears 'Cedes held back until David tugged on his arm.

"You're on in twenty," he nudged expectantly. Kurt collected himself, dabbing softly at his cheeks and checking his clothes before moving behind the curtain to take his place to enter the stage.

As Mercedes passed him she squeezed his elbow and gave him an encouraging smile. "You were great," he whispered, before grabbing up a stool and walking into the spotlight. He sat himself daintily on it as the mournful guitar riffs of "Hallelujah" began.

He sang the song with his eyes closed, wishing Quinn was in front of him, hoping that when (if) she watches the video she'll be able to see everything Kurt's trying to say, everything he was sure she wouldn't actually hear if he said it to her, anyway.

As he sang out the last 'hallelujah' Kurt was able to make out Dave's face between the curtains of left stage and he took in the open wonder on the other boy's face before his training kicked in and he got up to bow, beckoning Rachel out to join him as they gave their all to "For Good". As they hit the last harmonizing notes they looked at each other and knew that singing it here and now was more meaningful than any performance on a Broadway stage could ever be.

The final curtain call was a blur of everyone involved coming on stage for a final bow, and the members of New Directions were finally able to slip off stage as Mr. Schuester, Ms. Pillsbury, and Coach Bieste thanked the audience for coming.

"The Mighty Quinn" played just above the low hum of conversation as the audience trickled out, and it seemed to top off the production perfectly.

"I told you-" Dave began once they were back in the choir room, but was cut off by everyone clambering on all side. There were so many voices, some of them aimed at Kurt, and he felt slightly like he'd had a triple shot espresso after shot gunning a Red Bull.

"I'm going to have "Hero" stuck in my head for a MONTH!"

"I still have goose bumps!"

"Better watch out Satan, you looked almost warm and fuzzy when you sang that song."

"You should ask Davey what sort of tricks I have in my weave, Puckerman."

"You can never tell Rachel I said this, but you and she would make a wicked Glinda and Elphaba. Heh. Get it?"

"What happened to, 'Jeff Buckley's music isn't theatrical enough'?"

"It was really great bro, but I still don't get the big deal about everyone know what you were singing."

"Frankenteen, I used to think your cluelessness was due to a backup of manjuice but your IQ just might have gotten worse since you started boning Berry. It's ridiculous."

And so it continued, the room filling up more than it emptied as family members arrived and no one seemed inclined to leave. Kurt, for his part, didn't particularly want the night to end. He knew the novelty of being surrounded by the people he loved would be sorely missed when he was going to school in NYC.

In all of the commotion Kurt got a final glimpse of David waving goodbye, Paul shouting something that Kurt couldn't make out before they disappeared.

As Kurt poured himself into bed later night his phone chirped, alerting him to a new text.

'you made Jeff proud tonight. dad said a lady next to him kept saying "an angel, he sings like an angel" lol. i THINK that's a good thing ;P. night, see ya tmrw.'

'Couldn'ta done it without you. Good night, David.'

He smiled to himself as he repeated the words David had said to Kurt after his Glee audition. His head sunk into the pillow and he drifted off quickly, "Fly Me To The Moon" his lullaby.

* * *

Kurt prepared the information he had compiled for PFLAG (they'd given most of their attention to the GSA to get it up and running as soon as possible) and headed down the stairs to the front door where his dad seemed to be waiting for him.

"I'll be eating at David's tonight so don't worry about me. I've finally convinced him to watch a musical and I landed on "West Side Story". Can you believe he's never seen it? Rachel about had a conniption," Kurt said, laughing airily as he slipped on his boots and grabbed up his coat.

"You think that's such a good idea, kiddo?" Burt asked in his 'we're-about-to-have-a-conversation-neither-of-us-will-enjoy' voice.

"Watching a movie with David? Been there, done that Dad. No biggie."

"Yeah, but this is different," Burt insisted, with a hint of question to his voice.

"How, pray tell?" Kurt asked, apprehension at where this may be going washing over him. He couldn't ignore things once his dad acknowledged them and he had been doing so well (mostly).

"It's a love story Kurt. Don't tell me you don't see how obviously in lo-"

"David only thinks he... It's only because he didn't know anyone else who was gay and formed a weird attachment. But we've moved past that and we're friends."

Kurt didn't mention how now, though, David knew more gay people than he did with how often he'd frequented Scandals. Or how he'd told Kurt, 'Meh, they're not my type' before blushing and changing the subject when Kurt had asked about any possible romantic interests.

"Ya don't think you're projecting there a little?" his dad asked, and seriously, how did his dad know him so well? "Like, ya know, with you and Blaine..."

"I understood your allusion, thanks," he snapped, then mumbled, "Sorry," at his father's pointed look.

"No one's ever been able to tell you anything you didn't want to hear," Kurt opened his mouth to object but snapped it shut at another look from Burt, who continued patiently. "That's the Hummel in you and usually it warms me, but Dave turned out to be an alright kid and I'd hate to see him get hurt. 'specially if you're the one doin' the hurting."

Kurt gaped openly, and he'd swear he meant to guffaw and make a pithy comment about how much things had turned around (his DAD was worrying about DAVID KAROFSKY), but he ended up whispering, "I don't want to hurt him." A beat passed. "But you need to stop worrying. Your heart - "

"Is fine." Burt walked over and clapped his hand on Kurt's shoulder, looking at him softly before walking away, muttering about it not being his heart he was worried about and star crossed love.

Kurt hastily threw on his jacket and decided to push the conversation to the back of his mind, lest he allow it to color his time with David.

When Kurt arrived at the Karofsky's twenty minutes early (Had he been that eager? Good thing his father had stopped him to talk about - nope, never mind) he saw a woman leaving whom he recognized from photographs. It was David's mother.

David had shared, during the first GSA meeting, that he'd chosen the night of The Incident because Wednesday nights used to be the night once a week (or month, or whenever she deigned them worthy of her time) that his mother came by for a 'family dinner'. The distraught teen had figured it'd be better if his Dad wasn't alone when he found his son.

Those random dinners had ended, of course, as soon as his mother had reacted to her son's attempt on his own life with damnation and the solution of brainwashing.

Kurt wondered what she was doing there and was extremely grateful that he had tinted windows, just in case she knew about him; he didn't want to make it worse for David if she saw him there. Kurt waited a full ten minutes after she drove off to exit his vehicle and approach the door, the movie clenched tighter than necessary in his hand as he used the other to ring the bell.

"Hey," David greeted with a smile that managed to reach his bloodshot eyes.

Kurt felt the concern flutter in his chest.

"You alright?" slipped out, even though Kurt had decided waiting to come in made it seem creepy to know that David's mom had been there. Hopefully David just thought Kurt could read him that well.

"Yeah," Dave answered slowly, eyeing Kurt strangely. "Katrina just left, probably won't be seeing her again unless her cult leader, sorry, I mean pastor, decides that homos AREN'T going to eviscerate the world, but whatever." He let out a bark of a laugh that made Kurt cringle before shrugging his shoulders in an attempt at nonchalance. "But on to better things - whatcha got for me?" he motioned eagerly to the movie and the bag slung over Kurt's shoulder. Kurt decided to let it drop, for now.

"Some PFLAG information and a timeless film that seems to have escaped your repertoire. So, work or play?" he asked with a waggle of his eyebrows, but the heated look on David's face made Kurt's mouth go dry and he forced out a cough before averting his eyes, shrugging out of his jacket and sitting down to remove his boots.

"Work first and, uh," this time it was David who coughed, "play later."

"I love a man with his priorities straight, no pun intended," Kurt said lightly before turning to walk into the kitchen, cursing himself for the (not exactly subtle) flirting. It'd just... slipped out! And if it was any other friend it would have come out as a light hearted joke but now...

It was his dad's fault, Kurt decided, for putting those thoughts into Kurt's head in the first place. He and David were just friends! Kurt had forgiven him for the past, David had forgiven Kurt for being absent in his time of need, and they'd moved forward. And that. was. that. Kurt sat at the kitchen table and distracted himself with the printouts of suggested starter kits for new chapters.

Meanwhile Dave stood in the foyer, dumbstruck, before picking up a pillow from the cushioned window seat and screaming in to it. It did not help that Kurt had just sat next to the pillow and it had picked up his scent.

"David?" Kurt called out, and Dave adjusted his pants and walked in to the kitchen, hoping the lighting in the kitchen didn't highlight his blush.

Twenty minutes later Kurt caught Dave fidgeting for the third time and asked if he wanted to take a break.

Dave decided it was now or never, screwed his courage up, and dove in head first.

"Can I ask you two questions?"

"Shoot."

"One, why haven't you gone to see Quinn again, and two, what's going on with you and Bland - er, Blaine?" Dave really hoped Kurt didn't catch that slip.

"Oh."

No answer was forthcoming from the countertenor; the silence started to stretch on, Kurt's eyes moving about the room.

"Sorry, that was personal," Dave began, voice slicing through the silence like a hot knife through butter. His words seemed to ground Kurt.

"I always ask you personal questions and you answer with no qualms, each and every time."

"'s different, I get why you don't trust me-"

"What?" Kurt gave David's dejected look a stern glare. "I do trust you, David." His glare disappeared. "The reason I hesitated... it wasn't you being the one asking, it was the questions themselves." Dave remained quiet, waiting and hoping for Kurt to continue. After taking a few soothing breaths, he did.

"The first question is complicated, so I'll answer the second one first. Did that sentence make sense?" A deep breath. "Anyway. Blaine." He gave David a look that let him know his little slip had been noticed, but the twitching corner of Kurt's lip told him he wasn't in trouble. "We broke up almost 2 weeks ago," he answered like it was no big deal, and Dave looked like Kurt'd just told him that the guy who wore the Barney suit was a kid killing cannibal.

"What?! But he's, like, perfect? And you guys are still, like, attached at the hip. What happened? Or ya know, if you don't wanna tell me it's okay."

"We've remained friends because we figured out that's what we were meant to be," Kurt answered, short and sweet. It really had been so simple, but being an observer Kurt understood why David found it so unbelievable. Everyone seemed to think he and Blaine were the quintessential example of young gay love. That had been a big part of the problem.

"As for him being 'perfect', that doesn't exist," Kurt continued. "Or, he may very well be perfect for someone else, say Sebastian-"

"Wha?!"

"Mm, there's no accounting for taste, but yes. To me, Blaine was... he like a space heater. Reliable, comforting... but I think I want someone who's an inferno. Much more risk is involved, yes, but surviving the flames would be so rewarding," Kurt opened his eyes, not knowing when they'd closed. "Blaine and I couldn't find that together."

Kurt didn't mention that sometimes he remembers (albeit wrongly channeled but still) fiery passion and a kiss in a locker room. In another world...

"So I guess that's what he meant," Dave said mostly to himself, but Kurt caught it.

"What who meant?" he asked, hoping his face didn't betray the thoughts running through his mind; what if, what if...

"Blaine. After my audition I asked him if you were okay, if he knew what was up with you and Quinn, and he said not really, and that I'd have better luck asking Rachel or Finn, but I never got around to it." Dave didn't say that he'd already known, from simple observation, that Kurt didn't talk about Quinn to anyone. Except, maybe now, him.

"Which brings us to your first question. Quinn."

There was a short silence again before Kurt spoke slowly, a pained expression on his face.

"It's hard to explain, but seeing her like that... the last time we spoke, before the accident, we were civil at best because we'd disagreed about something-"

"Oh yeah, um, I have a message from her."

"You've seen her? She spoke to you?" Kurt asked, stunned.

"Yeah, the day you rain checked our meeting-"

"That was the day Blaine and I..."

"Oh." Explained a lot, Dave thought. "So yeah, I was feeling restless and before I knew it I was in her hospital room. And she said," he closed his eyes, wanting to remember the exact words. "She said she was wrong, she was sorry, and she really can't understand. I didn't tell you 'cause you, ya know, never talk about her."

Kurt felt like he'd been punched in the gut. Did she think he wasn't visiting her because of the disagreement? Of course he was, in a roundabout way, but only because he figured she may not want to see him, and she had enough on her plate as it was.

"Oh god, I'm an idiot," he whispered harshly, his voice croaking as his throat clogged and tears sprang to his eyes. His hand automatically reached for Dave's while Dave surreptitiously moved his chair so he was angled close enough to put an arm around Kurt.

"No you're not, you had your reasons," Dave soothed quietly.

"It's no excuse; I've been a horrible friend. No, I have! I just... I couldn't see her like that. She used to have an icy veneer but not around us, not anymore. The night she woke up she looked right through all of us. Even when she spoke, it was like we weren't there. Like she wasn't there. Rachel cries all of the time because she never lets herself do it when she's with Quinn, but I'm not sure I could keep my composure." His voice got small. "I've never done so well in hospitals."

"I could go with you," Dave offered automatically.

"David, I couldn't ask you," he said, pulling away to dry his face.

'You could ask anything of me', was on the tip of Dave's tongue when Kurt's phone chirped.

"I'm going with you," Dave said firmly instead, and Kurt searched his face. "Whenever you're ready, I'm there." He knew it wasn't much, since Kurt would never have had to go alone anyway, but it was all he could think to offer.

Kurt gave him a pitiful smile.

"So then never, yes?" he suggested, ignoring Dave's stern look as he reached for his phone.

"Mr. Schue has news for us, told us to be there 'with bells on' tomorrow," Kurt relayed before tucking the phone away and letting out a deep sigh. "I need to watch fake people be miserable, can we save this stuff for another time and put the movie on?"

"Great idea," David agreed.

"They're the only kind I have," Kurt attempted humor and Dave picked it up and ran with, laying over exaggerated praises on Kurt so that he was bowing as Kurt took a seat, laughing at the other teen's antics.

When the movie ended Kurt sniffled and looked down to see Dave's reaction but the other boy was asleep, sprawled out on the couch, his head precariously close to resting on Kurt's thigh.

"Are you serious?" he whisper-yelled, startling Dave awake. The other boy popped up, looking groggily from the scrolling credits to Kurt's perturbed countenance before chuckling and rubbing his eyes.

"Sorry," he yawned out and chuckled a little more before asking, "How'd it end?"


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or these characters because if I did David Karofsky would be existing in the black hole that is the fourth season.

* * *

Monday's Glee rehearsal was more of a party than practice for Nationals (which seemed to be creeping up on them) after Mr. and the almost Mrs. Schuester (the wedding was set for June 15th, the Friday after graduation, so the two educators would be on summer break and free to honeymoon in lands afar) made the announcement.

"We've finished collecting and counting the donations, and after recieving an anonymous check - "

"- which Sue claims smells like the anchorman Rod Remington - "

"- in the amount of TEN THOUSAND - "

"WHAT?"

"- we have a grand total of - "

"- $18,572," they announced the final number in unison, twin grins on their faces.

Cheers were shattering ear drums, the girls were hugging and crying, and a few minutes later Nikky surprised them by showing up to share in the good news. After she revealed that the money more than covered what the insurance wouldn't they'd spent the afternoon breaking into random songs and drinking sparkling cider ('Laaame, why wasn't I put on drink duty?' Puck had groaned out) out of champagne flutes that someone had snagged.

Kurt was riding a high from the giddiness in the air when he linked his arm through David's, took a sip from his flute, and announced that he wanted to go see Quinn on Friday.

David was giving him a proud, satisfied smile, and Kurt was just about to reacquaint himself with the feeling of David's arms around him, maybe try to identify David's cologne, when Finn interrupted. He didn't get another moment alone with David for the rest of the celebration.

That night he accidentally interrupted Finn and Rachel's make out session in the family room. What? He couldn't very well miss 'Body of Proof' for their round of tonsil hockey, now could he?

* * *

The days tended to pass in a blur for Quinn, measured by nurse checkups and physical therapy appointments.

She stumbled across the news in a rare private moment when she was feeling almost normal, watching TV and pretending she was lying on the couch at home channel surfing. She was pulled from her daydream when she saw the date- Wednesday, April 4th. Had it really been over a month since the accident, she wondered? An entire month of her life; come and passed right before her eyes.

The silent place in her mind was calling to her when the door opened to reveal Artie, who peeked his head in before rolling towards the bed. His eyes landed on her wheelchair and he hummed in approval.

"At least they're not skimping on quality wheels," he commented drolly.

Without her consent her eyebrow quirked, her usual reaction to Artie's dry humor.

"Hi," she said, and it came out hoarse but sounded almost like a genuine welcome.

"Hey Quinn," Artie said softly. "We brought the benefit video. I finally finished editing it this afternoon."

Before she could respond Finn, Puck, and Sam were entering the room to set up a projector and speakers, stretching out a while sheet on the wall across from her bed; and then walking out with quick waves to prone girl. Quinn noticed that Puck was wearing a suspicious smirk on his face before all three were gone as quickly as they'd appeared.

"Enjoy," Artie said before rolling towards the door, clicking on the projector and turning off the ceilings lights on his way out.

Quinn watched as her friends sang "Keep Holding On" and was annoyed at how easily it affected her, memories and emotions crashing through her carefully constructed dams. She felt herself break fully as she watched Santana sing "You're My Best Friend", and by the time Kurt and Rachel's "For Good" came to an end she was shaking, her still healing hand (her wrist wrapped in a splint that allowed only her fingers to move; she could only take off the itchy, heavy healing aide off during PT) curled against her stomach as she sobbed into a pillow, her almost healed collarbone twinging at the heaving of her chest.

That was how Shelby found her, the older woman rushing up to the bed to put a hand on Quinn's back, rubbing softly and encouraging her to breathe.

Quinn was still breathing heavily but the shaking had subsided. Shelby took as step back as the blonde let out a final shudder before maneuvering her hand to her side and wiping her cheeks with a napkin from next to her mostly untouched dinner.

Shelby's eyes lingered on the plate full of food as she allowed Quinn more time to calm. She seemed to debate with herself before, eyes still on the plate, she spoke in an authoritative tone.

"If you plan on getting better and being able to hold Beth then you need to not only do your exercises, you also have to eat and build up your strength because," she took a deep breath and turned her sharp eyes on Quinn, "you look like a ghost and I won't have our daughter exposed to that."

Quinn gaped, overwhelmingly aware of her stringy hair and the dark bags under her eyes.

"What- I don't- Beth?" Quinn floundered, used to the feeling of coming to in the middle of someone's monologue, though not usually caring. But... Beth?

"Ask Puck, because I'm not quite sure how it happened, but he convinced me to move a town close to New Haven so that you can start a new life outside of Lima that includes our daughter."

Shelby gave Quinn a steady look and when the younger woman didn't respond her eyes flashed dangerously. "There is a strict 'no funny business' clause to this, Quinn. If I so much as suspect that you're trying to mess with me or mine again we'll be gone and you'll never hear from us again. I've already spoken to my lawyer about this-"

"Lawyer?" Quinn asked weakly, feeling even more lost.

"Did you think after the stunt you pulled that I didn't double and triple check my rights?" Shelby asked firmly but gently. "I only want non-destructive people in Beth's life. I know without a doubt how much you love her so if you think you've learned something... I'm willing to give you one more chance."

"But I'm not... Yale isn't an option anymore," Quinn stated sullenly, too exhausted to fight against the onslaught of emotions after holding them in for so long.

"Why not?" Shelby inquired. "You've already been accepted, the hard part's over -"

"Over?! Let's totally forget how my hand doesn't work and that I can't do anything on my own. I shouldn't be allowed in public. Beth's probably better off - That truck killed a part of me... I don't feel anymore," she explained vehemently, but even as she spoke fresh tears poured from her eyes. Stupid friends and their stupid benefit, undoing all of Quinn's careful shutting down in one fell swoop. How pointless was the constant radical acceptance she'd been enforcing (acceptance that she was doomed to an empty life as a nothing and a no one) if, when people tried to rub hope in her face, she actually fell for it?

"The girl I walked in on was definitely feeling something, multiple something's as far as I could tell." Shelby approached the bed again, gripping Quinn's right hand.

"I have something for you," Shelby whispered, smiling a soft, secret smile before releasing Quinn's hand and reaching for her purse.

She pulled out and unfolded a pink piece of construction paper with red hand prints on it, and feet prints in an attempted heart shape. Across the top it read "Happy Valentine's Day Momma", and Quinn stared at it, soaking it in, barely hearing as Shelby explained how she'd asked the nursery school to make one for all three parents, having given Puck his earlier.

Eyes still on the construction paper, which Shelby had fastened above the overcrowded pin board, Quinn whispered, "So Puck arranged this, huh?"

She fixed Shelby with her own heavy, loaded gaze. Deflection seemed her last option.

"He really cares about you," Shelby said firmly. Well there went that plan of action. "A lot of people care about you, Quinn. So I'm going to do them a favor and offer you some incentive; I'm going to come by tomorrow night with Beth if you get a full night's sleep, eat three square meals, and participate in your PT tomorrow. Fair trade? I will not bring her until those three things happen." She wasn't trying to use Beth as a bargaining chip... well she kind of was, but she figured drastic times and all. And it was Puck's idea so who's surprised if it was a little callous.

Quinn sat thoughtful, eyes once again on the Valentine bearing impressions of her daughter's tiny hands and feet.

"I think I can do that," Quinn whispered.

* * *

"I'm going to be absent from tonight's GSA, would you be so kind as to get a copy of the minutes to me tomorrow?" Rachel asked breathlessly, coming up to Kurt before the first bell.

"Why do you look so... giddy?" Kurt inquired warily. Rachel was practically vibrating.

"Something wonderful has happened Kurt. When I dropped some banana bread off for Quinn before school she THANKED ME and then ATE SOME OF IT!" Her hands gripped his wrists and tightened with each emphasized word.

Other students milling about looked on in either annoyance or amusement. The fugue that had seemed to grip the school had lightened once Quinn was awake, and the closer prom, graduation, and summer became the more the mood seemed to improve.

Random people still walked up to ask about Quinn but in general the students seemed to be back in the 'I'm young and nothing can touch me,' mindset, tragedy once again a foreign concept only experienced through mass media.

"That's great news, Rachel."

Kurt felt the weight that had settled along with his determination to go see Quinn shiver and shift. Maybe it wouldn't be as painful as he expected and he'll manage to remain strong and explain himself rationally. Maybe.

"Yes it is. She still looks a bit distant but... it was as if she'd managed to move closer. To top it all off she actually requested my presence immediately after school, so of course I couldn't decline. I went as far as to ask if she was feeling better and she, she said she was feeling," Rachel elaborated, tears of pain and joy mixing together in a smooth glide down her cheeks.

"Can you tell her that I would like to come tomorrow but if she doesn't want me there..."

Rachel seemed to snap out of her emotions and zoned in on Kurt's before slapping him across the shoulder.

"Stop it right now. If you all believe I need to stop blaming myself for... Well, if you think that, then I think you need to stop worrying that Quinn is upset with you."

Rachel's voice had risen, a small smile on her face.

"Things are looking up Kurt. I will tell Quinn that you'll be stopping by tomorrow and I'm sure she'll be delighted."

Kurt gave her a disbelieving look but she stubbornly kept a perky smile on her face, nodding slowly.

He shoved her lightly before shutting his locker with a flick of his wrist.

"Alright Baby Barbra, I'll trust your judgment." He shifted his books in his arms. "Too bad you're missing tonight, we have three new members. I'm surprised it's still growing," he said, bringing the conversation back to the GSA.

"I'm not, mostly. Usually I doubt the thriving humanity of McKinley but I think Santana is to thank for much of the positive response."

They stopped outside of Kurt's homeroom, Kurt once again wearing a befuddled expression.

"Think about it; the Bully Whips were secretly admired and they called attention to the fact that we all have the power to stop bullying. And now you've helped everyone find a place to learn the courage to do just that. You're an inspiration, Kurt." Rachel praised, before throwing her arms around him.

"See you in English!"

She pulled back and took off towards her own homeroom, Kurt walking into the classroom with a slight bounce in his step.

* * *

That night just as Kurt was beginning his nighttime hair and face routine, he heard the front door open and familiar sobs coming from the living room.

He raced downstairs with his heart in his throat until he saw Rachel laughing in the living room, Finn looking as baffled as Kurt felt.

"Rach?" Finn prompted, not having gotten anything intelligible out of Rachel save for 'Beth' and he knew if Beth was near Shelby was as well.

"I'm okay, I'm sorry. I just feel like everything's been on pause and now suddenly it's moving extra fast to make up for the lost time," she explained, her arms flapping about even as another manic chuckle bubbled out of her. "Quinn smirked and almost laughed, I could tell! And the way she did her physical therapy - as if she'd been doing it all along... I knew, I knew..."

"Knew what?" Kurt asked, confused by this new development.

"She told me she's finally found incentive but when I asked more she sort of shut down again so I stopped prying. Then as I was leaving I saw; Puck, Shelby and Beth showed up."

"Oh wow," Kurt said, appreciating how good and bad that news was. "Are you-?"

The question hung in the air, Finn grateful that Kurt had asked because, damnit, Rachel was emotional enough with Quinn and college and the wedding and worrying about Puck graduating... And now Shelby was back. Finn had totally forgotten Puck had e-mailed her.

"I'm absolutely ecstatic about the affect it's having on Quinn, and that's what matter." She sighed, her whole body sagging sideways into Finn. "That's all that matters right now."

Kurt's last thought before he closed his eyes that night was that he'd forgotten to ask a now sleeping Rachel if she'd told Quinn of his impending visit.

* * *

His dream was the strangest he'd had in a while; he was in a long line that stretched down the street, everyone in it cheerily chatting to those around them, not seeming to mind at all that the line was moving at a snail's pace. Kurt wasn't sure what he was in line for, exactly, but he knew it was important so he stayed put.

His eyes kept landing on a bright red house in front of him, a house Dream!Kurt had always admired. He could just catch a glimpse of a spiral stair case he ached to climb, had coveted for the longest time. The envy was growing steadily until a friendly, familiar, but ultimately unknown face looked out through a window, the stranger's eyes landing on Kurt.

Suddenly the house was much closer than Kurt remembered and the window was opening, the stranger reaching a hand towards Kurt expectantly.

"I've been waiting. Have you?" a smooth, husky voice whispered in Kurt's ear.

But when Dream!Kurt blinked he was back in line, staring at the red house longingly yet incapable of approaching before the line snaked forward, much faster than before, and the dream shifted.

He woke up the next morning to an aching chest, throbbing erection, and no memory of any dreams.

* * *

After school on Friday David went with Kurt to the hospital as promised (Rachel hadn't even asked if he wanted her to come, surprisingly enough), but when they reached Quinn's floor Dave stepped in to the waiting room at the end of the hall.

"I'm here if you need me, but I wanna give you guys privacy. Take your time."

Kurt glared but David just turned his attention to a sports magazine and Kurt threw his hands up in exasperation before turning and forcing his feet towards Quinn's room.

When Kurt arrived at Quinn's door he was surprised to see she wasn't there. He walked in slowly and took it all in; fresh flower arrangements, Puck's guitar lounging in a corner, the pin board and surrounding wall covered in pictures and cards, including a Valentine addressed to 'Momma'.

Kurt was staring unseeingly at the board, wondering idly where Quinn could be, when he heard a squeak of wheels and a male's voice.

"I know it's frustrating but I think you're overlooking the upside. We could all do with a little less technology in our lives."

"Probably, but I miss-"

They never heard what Quinn missed as her eyes landed on Kurt and her mouth snapped shut.

"Hi Quinn," he whispered, probably not loudly enough to be heard.

"I'm going to get the nurse in here to help you into bed," the man attached to the voice wearing bright red scrubs said before walking out of the room.

Quinn sat unmoving but her eyes on Kurt were scrutinizing. He met them directly and she looked away.

"David told me what you said," Kurt began, not sure what else he could say for himself. 'I'm sorry' was bullshit sometimes; he had stayed away for a reason, and he knew it probably made him a bad friend but if given another chance he'd do it the same way.

"I figured he was the only one you'd listen to," Quinn admitted, and although she was looking at her hands, her right rubbing and stretching the fingers on her left, Kurt could tell that Rachel was right; she was coming back to them.

Kurt didn't get a chance to respond as the nurse and red scrubbed whatever he was (physical therapist?) walked back in, the nurse rolling Quinn and positioning her parallel with the bed that was being lowered by the mystery man.

Kurt looked back towards the pin board as Quinn was lifted onto the bed, not sure he'd want an audience for that himself.

"Rachel talks a lot," Quinn said to his back, and when he turned around they were alone in the room.

"I've noticed?"

"Hmm. So do Tina and Mercedes, even Santana. You have no idea how much people will talk when they know you're not listening," and then she giggled. Giggled.

"Why didn't you tell anyone it was Beth that would help? For weeks your family and friends have been trying to break through and all you needed was Beth?" It was out of him before he knew it, but Kurt didn't want to take it back.

He knew he hadn't been there but that was because he'd watched how much this was hurting everyone around him. And now he was maybe a little ticked that it had taken one visit from Shelby and Beth for her to put in effort. To care.

Quinn shrugged delicately and that annoyed Kurt even further. He'd prepared himself for being distraught, not angry, and Kurt tried to collect his thoughts and listen to Quinn without saying something snippy he'd regret later.

"I didn't know what I needed. I wasn't here; I wasn't in my own head." She shrugged again. "I'm finally talking to the therapist. And my mom. And my doctors. And Rachel and Puck and Shelby." She giggled again, and it reminded him of when Rachel was overdosing on her emotions. Girls.

"You're making up for lost time," Kurt said, hoping it came out with no bite.

"Guess so."

They were silent, Kurt still standing near the card covered wall.

"I get why you're mad." Her voice sounded like the old no bullshit Quinn, with just a hint of something new and different.

Kurt pulled at the side of his hair lightly before forcing his arm down. "Then explain it to me, because it came out of left field," he admitted.

"I'm a hypocrite. Going on about how what Dave did was selfish, and here I was having survived an almost fatal accident, sitting around hurting everyone who tried to help. But I just... couldn't think, couldn't feel, and couldn't reach out. The therapist calls it dissociating. I call it being afraid." That's what was different; Quinn Fabray was being totally transparent.

Kurt shook his head as the anger seeped from his veins. "You're not a hypocrite, and if anyone knows about being afraid it's me. I just-" he continued when Quinn looked ready to protest before shaking his head when he no words came to mind.

She was healing, he was dealing, and he was finally here to see her. Kurt kept that in mind before asking his next question.

"So you figured this all out in one day of therapy?"

"One day of therapy and over a month of existing in my own head," she corrected, still looking wary of where they stood.

He pulled himself away from the wall and took a seat in the chair beside her.

"I thought you said you couldn't think?" he reminded her, not totally understanding Quinn's behavior and finding he really wanted to. Needed to.

"Sometimes... it would seem like days passed by in a haze, and on other days I'd be aware but, I don't know, stuck. The thoughts and emotions would build up and I'd fight against them before falling in to another lull. Over and over and over."

"But you're back now?" he clarified, regretting it when Quinn's eyes fell on her splinted hand. She lifted it and brought it up between them, separating her fingers as wide as they could go before the pain above her wrist flared and she laid it back down.

"I'm getting there."

Kurt had lingered in the hospital room with Quinn for a bit, their conversation drifting from PT to Beth and Shelby. Their visit was cut short when, speak of the devils, the two walked in to the hospital room preceded by Beth's babbling (she'd learned the word 'puppy' and it has been on repeat ever since).

Dave straggled in behind them and Kurt popped up guiltily, having forgotten that David was waiting for him. Kurt turned back to Quinn to say goodbye and when she wrapped her arms around Kurt's neck, squeezing so tightly it hurt (probably on purpose), Kurt felt his weighted shoulders lighten.

"So we're both forgiven?" he whispered in her ear before pulling back. He reached out and ran his fingers lightly over her chopped hair.

"If you can somehow fix this," Quinn pointed to the uneven cut of her blonde locks, "then yes." And she smile an at peace smile as Shelby plopped a still chattering Beth on Quinn's right side.

"Done," Kurt answered before waving politely to Shelby and walking towards David, reaching for the taller boys hand and heading home.

* * *

"It's exactly like Rachel said- the movie of Quinn's life has been on pause and now it's skipped ahead and Quinn's happily playing catch up," Kurt explained to Blaine over sales racks the next day. He'd desperately needed retail therapy and Blaine had jumped at the suggestion.

"Do you think it's fake - the happy part?" Blaine queried, mindful of Kurt's tone.

"Not exactly." Kurt picked up a shirt and examined it, a sound of annoyance escaping him when he saw the delicate fabric sporting a pull. "Not at all, actually," he continued, carelessly stuffing the shirt back. "It just goes to show why I'd never want to be a doctor. It's all so..."

He gave up on finding a word to describe the confusion and nonsense and pain that involved recovery.

"If it counts you seem happy," Blaine pointed out before practically drooling over the bow tie collection in front of him.

"I am, I think. You, on the other hand, are emitting a glow so bright I was afraid to remove my sunglasses," Kurt observed.

Blaine froze in his reach for a tie, slowly turning his smiling face towards Kurt before visibly hesitating. Kurt laughed. "What?"

"I don't know if it's too soon but- Sebastian asked me to prom!"

Kurt's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. Sure he was happy for Blaine, knew that they'd made the right choice in breaking up. And yet…

"I thought you said drawing attention to yourself was a bad idea?" he reminded Blaine, turning to the boots he'd been drawn to. Jimmy Choos marked down from $280? Yes, please.

"I might have said something ignorant like that, once upon a time," Blaine answered from under a pile of dinner jackets. "Luckily I know someone much wiser and braver than I." That earned a scoff from Kurt.

"They have prom at Dalton now?" Kurt asked. He didn't remember that.

"No... Well they have a 'Spring Formal' with the sister school, but you can't bring outsiders to that." Kurt rolled his eyes at the word 'outsiders'. "He asked me to McKinley prom."

"He asked you to your own prom?"

"That's what I said."

"And you said yes?"

"I did."

Their eyes finally met before Kurt was forced to shift his hold of the contents in his arms.

"Congratulations," Kurt said. "I mean it," he emphasized; he wasn't sure how long the subject of Sebastian would make him want to throw things, but he decided to spare the Gucci bag in front of him. It deserved better.

"Thanks, babe. I wasn't planning on going since most of the group will be at senior prom this year. Sometimes I forget that I'm only a junior," Blaine laughed, Kurt nodding in agreement. "Has Dave asked you yet?" the shorter boy made his eyebrows dance as he spoke.

"No he has not, and if he had we'd be going as friends," Kurt responded, teeth clenched through the last word. "And anyway, we tend to avoid the 'p' word since the last one ended so abysmally, at least for David. The one time it came up he mentioned his cousin Sonia, so I presume he'll be bringing her. Maybe I'll go look for a date at Scandal's," he huffed out and Blaine gasped happily.

"Ooh please choose Tina," he said, bouncing around so that the belts he'd acquired clanked and jingled.

Kurt snorted again before grabbing up a blouse that would work wonders in his continued efforts to improve Rachel's wardrobe, all the while Blaine listed the merits of Tina over Cher.

"Maybe you and Dave will at least get to dance together this time," Blaine mused as they walked up to the register. The almost forgotten sensation of not recognizing his life or the people in it poked at Kurt's senses.

"I need coffee," he mumbled to himself.

* * *

"I can't believe I just sat through Titanic. Again," Dave mumbled around his straw.

"I can't believe you're still complaining," Sonia sighed out, her hazel eyes glinting gold in the setting sunlight as she dazed off dreamily. "Leonardo DiCaprio in 3D? It doesn't get better than that, Davey."

"Yeah, pretty sure there was also a pair of boobs staring at me for a while."

"Leonardo DiCaprio, David!"

"Whatever," he waved her off.

"What's got your panties in a twist?" Sonia asked before looking lovingly at her own gelati. "I for one am near delirious between the Rita's, that sunset, those flowers and, ugh, Leo's baby blues."

"Kurt's eyes are better," Dave was back to mumbling, slurping his drink loudly to drown out Sonia's knowing, "Aaaah".

"So my plan to distract you backfired and you just thought about Kurt the entire time?"

Dave put his smoothie down and ran his cool, condensation-moistened hand over his warming face.

"Not the entire time," he denied into his hand before lowering it and shrugging jerkily. "It's not your fault, nothing works anyway. I'm pretty sure on a scale of one to ten, I hit hopeless about twelve miles back." Dave picked up his drink and stared at it morosely.

"And you're sure he doesn't feel the same way?" Sonia asked for the millionth time since the boys' first GSA-inspired hang out.

When she'd transferred to Ohio State in the fall semester Dave had thrown a bit of a fit, but after a phone call in the middle of an August night, the night of Sonia's 22nd birthday (the first time Sonia had heard the words 'I'm gay' and 'Fancy' and 'What-do-I-do'), the decision had been made for both of them and she'd gone where she was needed. It took her about a month to get David's side of what his year had been like, but she was sure she knew most of it now.

"Zo, I'm lucky he cares about me as a friend. Shit, I'm still shocked every time I remember he trusts me. I don't expect more and you shouldn't either; Valentine's Day made that clear. But..."

"But?" she hedged.

"But that doesn't mean that I'm not pathetically, like certified insane, way over my head in love with him."

"Titanic probably was a bad idea," she conceded, mouth full of red ice and vanilla cream.

"I hate you."

* * *

Sunday was a banner evening in the Karofsky house as Kurt experienced making potato, spinach, and cheese pierogies from scratch with David and his paternal grandmother, Anna.

Sonia, Paul, Paul's brother Dan and his wife, Adrianna, were gathered in the living room, a Bon Jovi song playing in the background. His aunt and uncle's seven month old Sarah waved happily from her exer-saucer at their chocolate lab, Reese, whom they'd brought along because they couldn't possibly leave her home.

It was Anna's 71st birthday and when David had told Kurt about the family get together Kurt had assumed it was to cancel their ritual meeting/hang out, but he'd insisted that Kurt join them.

That's how he found himself with flour covered hands wearing an apron that warned 'Danger: Men Cooking'.

"I didn't know you made pierogies with your chin, musta been doing it wrong all these years," Dave chortled out, looking at Kurt with undisguised mirth written across his face. Kurt merely puffed out his chest.

"I'd start worrying that the student may have already surpassed the teacher," Kurt responded before picking up a napkin to wipe the wayward flour from his chin.

Dave raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his own apron's message- 'Dude With The Food'.

"We haven't even eaten them yet, we can't know whose batch came out better until they've cooked."

"Mine are not only going to be delicious, but they're aesthetically pleasing as well," Kurt answered, raising his own eyebrow at his perfectly half-moon shaped and smoothly edged batch before turning a now creased brow to David's group of lumpy pierogies.

"Just you wait. You think Gran and I share every secret we have?"

As if on cue Anna shuffled up to them, frizzy hair covered in a net as her green and orange floral housecoat clashed vividly with her purple blouse and khaki colored trousers.

"It's not a contest, boys. They'll all taste delicious if you've followed the recipe."

"I think he's bluffing; mine are shaped exactly like yours," Kurt replied with a sweet smile. Dave rolled his eyes when she seemed to dither before she complimented his efforts and started tenderly placing the pierogies onto the baking pan.

(His Gran had actually pulled Dave aside earlier and told him he'd 'snagged a good one' and then continued to fawn over Kurt like he was the second coming. Apparently Anna Karofsky's favorite stories were General Hospital and As the World Turns, and Dave believed his Aunt Dranna when she told him and his father about Gran writing the producers of the latter show, not only in protest of the series ending but of the horrible way they'd left Luke and Noah's storyline. The well-meaning woman had encouraged David to watch it and he'd tried, but it had hit a little too close to home so he'd told her it was good and left it at that.)

"They'll all come out inedible unless you've added the most important ingredient," Sonia spoke from the archway, a shit eating grin on her face.

"Zo," Dave groaned, hoping she'd censor herself in front of Gran. She usually did but she was on her second glass of wine.

"Oh Davey, I was going to say love!"

Kurt laughed quietly as he watched Dave nod disbelievingly, but Anna was the one who responded.

"That's actually written in every one of my recipe," she informed her grandson's cousin. Sonia was David's mother's brother's daughter, though she wasn't close to her parent and she hadn't spoken to her Aunt Katrina outside of random gatherings in years.

"Is it really?" Sonia asked, before looking for herself and going on and on about how cute Anna was and how her grandmother chain-smoked and wouldn't turn off the Real Housewives shows.

As the food cooked David, Kurt and Sonia drifted from the adults and were sitting around Dave's backyard table.

"So you spent a lot of time here growing up?" Kurt asked Sonia, neither of them noticing David stiffening.

"Not really. Been here a handful of times but Aunt Kat- ah, she never had family parties here. My parent's mansion usually housed those beloved affairs," she said, mimicking a high society accent.

"Mansion?"

"Yep, I grew up in a veritable museum. In my old town if three people lived in a house, there had to be at least six bedrooms. At least," she scoffed. "I've actually always envied your small town."

"And I've always told her she was insane," Dave added.

"I must go fetch myself some more of this wine, it's freaking dee-lish." Sonia drained her glass and smacked her lips happily, ignoring Dave's, "Save some room for the food."

"She's great David," Kurt said as he watched Sonia walk away singing, "Fill up my cup- Mazel Tov!"

Dave shook his head at her back before grudgingly admitting, "She has her moments."

Kurt wanted to know more about Sonia, namely how they'd gotten so close if she lived in some snobby town far from here, her accent giving her away as being from New York or New Jersey, but found his mouth working against his brain.

"How are things with your mom?"

It was the one subject David refused to get in to and while Kurt figured he at least spoke to Sonia about it, he really wanted David to share it with him as well. It was a strange fixation Kurt had developed since the day they watched "West Side Story".

Dave just sat there, observing the way the glass table top warped the lines in the wood of the deck before sighing, figuring the conversation was long overdue and Kurt deserved to know; could be trusted with Dave's biggest weakness.

For his part Kurt waited quietly, knowing David would either answer or politely change the subject.

"Last I heard from her was about a week ago." Dave, eyes still staring through the tabletop, readied himself to finally share this with Kurt. Kurt, who remained silent and still, his hands laced on top of the table just within Dave's line of vision.

"She was always absent, even before the divorce, but she seemed to think she could still control me and Dad, even when her 'work' took her across the country." Dave looked through the sliding door when Sonia slid it closed with her still inside. His cousin wasn't any better than Santana at being subtle and he was reminded why those two could NEVER meet. His eyes went back to the table.

"Anyway, after The Incident she went back in California with her new fiancé. Told me that when I graduate I can move in with them and go to this special Bible study college for, get this, a special course in purity, hint fucking hint... OR I lose my inheritance money."

"Inheritance?" Dave saw Kurt's hands separate before an elbow landed in their place, Kurt's delicately cradled chin coming in to view. Dave moved his eyes to the candle.

"Yeah, the reason she can live whatever way she wants to is my Grandpa's inheritance. I was born just before he passed away and he made one in my name. Can't access it 'til I'm 21 or married, whichever happens first. And we both know which that'll be," David said self-deprecatingly.

"And your mom is able to prevent you from getting it?" Kurt clarified, trying to hide the anger he felt towards David's so-called 'mother'. He recalled David's comment in the cafeteria; 'I just don't get why they even had kids in the first place.'

"I don't know the legalities, Dad's having his lawyer look into it but," Dave shrugged, hand reaching to fidget with the candle holder in the middle of the table, fingers skimming the heated honey-colored glass, "I don't want the money anyway."

"How much is it?" Kurt bit his runaway tongue, feeling insensitive at the question.

"About $250,000." Kurt stopped himself from gaping (not that David would see it, he thought to himself, more bothered than he should be that David wouldn't look at him).

"Think it's meant to help me buy my first home since he made the money in real estate and all," Dave surmised in the silence. "But that whole side of the family thinks so highly of themselves and I don't want anything to do with them. I'll make my own way."

Kurt knew David's stubbornness could rival his own so he nodded in understanding but he had one thinking point to share.

"Your future is more important than pride and that amount of money could drastically affect your future, like say college loans," Kurt missed David's eyes darting up in surprise as he'd fixed his own gaze on the burning candle, "and you shouldn't be so quick to dismiss being able to own a home. Especially these days."

"It's all a moot point if she has her way," Dave mumbled before sighing and bringing both hands up to hold his forehead, elbows on the table. "Sometimes I remember her actually being a mom, ya know, like reading to me and all that other stuff you see in Hallmark movies. And I think that makes it worse; like it's my fault she stopped caring 'cause she knew there was something wrong with me -"

"Nothing is wrong with you, David," Kurt cut in sharply.

Now he understood why Dave didn't talk about his mom, the look on his face reminding Kurt of terrified denials; a trapped animal just before it's made the choice between fight or flight. It made Kurt's chest ache painfully, his hands clenching so tightly he winced at his nails digging into his palms.

"I know," David's answered meekly. "I know, logically, it's her who has a problem." Kurt couldn't stand it anymore and placed a hand, palm up, just next to the burning candle. David reached with his own and gently interlaced their fingers before pressing their palms together. With his eyes on their hands David's voice grew stronger.

"Every day that she chooses something, anything, over loving me unconditionally she fails in her duty as a mother." He huffed out a tight laugh. "Ms. Pillsbury makes me repeat that every time I see her."

"Good, because it's the truth. And not only that, she misses out on knowing her..."

Kurt trailed off, finally looking into David's eyes. He saw the other boy's lips start to turn up into a smirk, a sparkle in his eyes that may or may not be the candle's flickering light. Kurt hoped the orange hue would mask his flushed cheeks.

"Her what?" Dave's smirk grew even further. He could definitely tell Kurt was blushing. Was he flirting? Kurt wondered, his heart rate picking up speed.

"Her strong, intelligent, determined, loving, sarcastic son," Kurt replied finally, his own smirk forming despite himself at the last adjective.

"You forgot handsome," David added slyly.

"No, I didn't," Kurt answered instantly, "I just figured I'd stroked your ego enough as it was."

Dave's eyes widened slightly as his hand convulsed and squeezed Kurt's. Kurt thought his knees may have gone weak if he'd been standing, the look in David's eyes burning a hole into his chest that pooled into lava which dripped slowly to his...

Abruptly Dave let go of Kurt's hand to stand and walk around the table, moving towards Kurt swiftly - when Sonia slid the door open and announced, "Dinner's ready, boys. Get it while it's hot."

Dave and Kurt didn't get more than one moment alone for the rest of the night and while another long hug shared outside of the open front door was wonderful (Dave had managed to get his nose right behind Kurt's ear for the duration, had felt the paler boy shiver at Dave's breath) Reese had interrupted them (why did that keep happening?!) and Dave had gone to sleep after a long, relaxing shower (behind a locked door).

* * *

The next morning Dave barged into his own room (where Sonia had slept) as loudly as possible, narrowly escaping a shoe thrown at his head and smiling when he heard her cursing the walls for spinning.

Dave sat in Ms. Pillsbury's office later that afternoon, as per his agreement with his dad when they couldn't afford the hospital recommend psychiatrist (he didn't want medication anyway, especially after his mother expressed interest in the idea) for their weekly appointments during his free period.

"The deadline for the other applications is April 20th. That," she lifted the papers to double check her desk calendar, "is this Friday. When do you think you'll have them for me?" she asked after they'd put the final touches on his safety net application to Ohio State; he was a shoe in for their math scholarship program.

"Just gotta finish the essays and they'll be done," Dave answered, tugging at his zipper nervously.

"And you're absolutely sure about this?" Her eyes scanned his face. He sighed, tugging the zipper harder.

"I know you think it's stupid-"

"I never said it was stupid, David. I think it's a wonderful idea... as long as you're doing it for the right reasons." Her eyes landed on her engagement ring, a soft sigh just this side of being a swoon escaping her lungs. Dave checked the urge the roll his eyes.

"I'm not doing this to follow him. That's creepy and pathetic." Emma tisked at him for the judgmental words and he allowed the eye roll this time. "What, it kinda is. New York City is just the logical option. Cali's outta the question and I'd be near all the best sports teams in the country. I've been talking to Finn about the degree program we'd be in-"

"I know, he said he'd be here Wednesday with his applications. Made me swear I wouldn't tell Will or Rachel."

"Yeah we're both going for Sports Management. Guy wants to pull a Cooter and make kids dreams come true. 's totally sappy," he smirked, fondness for his teammate showing through.

"It is good that you'll have friends there."

"Yep, Santana's applying to a couple law programs in Jersey and New York, Brittany got into that great veterinary school in Jersey, Rachel and Finn are gonna be shacked up near Broadway or something, Sonia's applying for a psychology internship at NYU Hospital, and Kurt..."

"Kurt is applying to NYADA. Which was what you were talking about when you decided to apply to NYU and SUNY in the first place and I just want to make sure that if," she hesitated, not wanting to push the wrong button. Dave was allowed to say if he wanted the meeting to end early and it would end. She didn't want that; it hadn't happened since their third 'session'.

"If he and I don't end up together, I don't regret going there?" Dave shook his head slowly. "New York's a big city, it has a gay mecca, and honestly? At this point we'd be connected forever anyway through the rest of the gleeks. I drank the punch, or maybe it was a slushy, and now there's no going back."

Emma smiled proudly; the young man before her was a different creature than the bully she'd encountered last year or the struggling teen he'd been a few months before. He seemed able and willing to work through and rise above the hard times that may come along.

"I'm so happy for you David. I hope you commend yourself on how far you've come; how you've reached out and trusted others and opened yourself to new experiences. You're a resilient young man and not only did you pick yourself back up, I do believe you're standing taller," she smiled brilliantly, tears pooling prettily at the bottom of her large orbs.

"Thanks Ms. P. Definitely has a lot to do with the people around me, 'specially you and Mr. Schue. You guys put up with a lot," Dave admired shyly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It was my pleasure," she peeped perkily. The bell rang and she shooed him out with an encouraging reminder about his applications (like he could forget).

As Dave walked to Chemistry he tried to figure out when he'd decided he was going to tell Kurt about where he was applying. He'd keep it a secret about Finn, who wanted to surprise Rachel (although her dads knew) but he couldn't hold it in any more. His essays were almost done and he was PROUD and he needed to share it with Kurt.

While what he'd told Sonia was true, he really didn't expect more, he couldn't ignore the hope that had lodged itself right next to Dave's heart when Kurt had visited him in the hospital.

Couple that with the signals he'd been getting from Kurt recently (which kept him up all night analyzing and, yeah, okay, fantasizing) he figured it couldn't hurt to lay himself bare; again. Kurt didn't seem to be going anywhere.

"I gotta talk to you," Dave tugged on Kurt's wrist after practice ended on Tuesday. Kurt had gone with Rachel to see Quinn yesterday and they'd barely spoken since Sunday. Dave almost felt like Kurt was avoiding him.

"Aren't you coming over?" Kurt asked, shifting so that it was his hand Dave was holding. He realized that had become a habit for them when they were together outside of school. But when?

"Yeah but I have something I wanted to show you."

"Alright, lead the way."

They waved goodbye to Mike and Tina as Dave walked to his locker. He released Kurt's hand to open the lock, smirking at the other boy's expectant face.

"Is it a present?"

"What could I get you that you don't already have?" Dave asked rhetorically as he swung his locker open and grabbed up papers, shoving them towards Kurt before he could answer.

"Here," he said gruffly, finding he couldn't explain himself without possibly/probably grovelling.

Kurt grasped the papers lightly, eyes darting across the pages.

"New York University?!" he shrieked, and Dave jumped a bit at the volume.

"And SUNY," Dave confirmed through a breaking smile.

"Oh my Gaga," Kurt whispered as he read the papers more closely.

"If I get the math scholarship for either schools, I'd have to maintain a 3.85 GPA to major in Sports Management - "

"You can do that, easily," Kurt breathed, eyes still on the sheets he was shuffling through, his grip on the papers crinkling them a bit. "You're coming to New York."

"If I get in," Dave nodded, staring at the shorter boy.

"David I've seen you do math; you're coming to New York," he repeated, looking up from the applications into David's eyes.

"I hope so," Dave said, or he thinks he did, but Kurt was distracting him by nibbling on his lower lip. David felt the mood shift before, for the third time, he found himself with his arms full of Kurt, their bodies pressed tightly together as Kurt nestled his face into the spot between David's neck and shoulder.

"'s all your fault, Fancy," Dave whispered.

"How's that?"

Dave chuckled lowly at Kurt's purred question.

"I couldn't let you have all the fun, could I?" he rumbled into Kurt's hair before brushing a feather light kiss against it. Was he imagining it, or was that really Kurt's heart beating the same erratic tattoo against Dave's own thumping chest?

"It will be infinitely more fun with my favorite bear cub," Kurt mumbled, goose bumps rising along Dave's arms at the sweep of Kurt's lips as they moved against his neck. They both stiffened a bit before separating.

A long gaze was shared between the two, and just when Dave thought finally, Kurt pulled back to reopen Dave's locker.

He put the applications back on the top shelf before closing it, locking it, and turning back to Dave.

"Until then we still have a PFLAG chapter to start. Come on, Carol's making stir fry." The heavy air lifted a bit, but Dave still had to adjust himself when Kurt turned, not noticing when Kurt did the same thing.

* * *

Dave spent Wednesday with Sonia, watching as she dyed her hair black.

"You're gonna look like a vampire," Dave commented, eyes on his phone as he shot off a text to Kurt. Apparently he was at the hospital giving Quinn a haircut.

Dave banged his head against the pillow he was laying on, gleaning no satisfaction from the whuff of air he got in return.

"Would you please stop being such a downer," Sonia groused, staring at her reflection in the mirror, her dyed hair piled into a messy glop of purpleblack on top of her head. "I think it'll make me look exotic."

Dave flipped over onto his stomach, his response lost in the fabric of the pillow.

"For fuck's sake, stop moping and make a damn move already. Kid's totally into you-"

"Shut uuuuuup," he whined before dropping his face back into the fluff. He really thought yesterday things were moving forward. They'd shared a moment before, poof, it had been all business. At least they'd finally landed on a PFLAG start date, he figured miserably.

"I'm serious. Man the hell up and, I don't know, ask him to prom. He broke up with his boyfriend, that's definitely a sign-"

"I already told him how I felt and he practically laughed in my face!"

"That was months ago. Ugh, boys are so stupid." Sonia made a grotesque face at him through the mirror.

"Fuck you Zo. You need to stop talking because no good ever comes from it! You always get my hopes up and then I remember I have no chance when he passes up every opportunity to make a move. I just wish he would stop."

"Stop what?"

"Stop being so damn flirty and inviting!"

"You really don't see it, do you?" she groaned, before realizing that Kurt probably didn't see it either. Boys!

"You're a deceiving harbinger of hope and light and I beg of you, fool me no more," he let out dramatically as he wrapped himself in the comforter. She stared at him, mouth hanging open, resisting the urge to jump on top of his cocooned body.

"I'm gonna go wash this out and when I get out we're gonna eat some Phish Food and watch 'Holiday Inn'. And you are going to stop pouting!"

"Kurt loves that movie," she heard from beneath the covers and she growled out and storm off, slamming the door of the bathroom. She swore if she had them claws would have come out when Dave chuckled from inside of her dorm room. "I'm just kidding! I'm not that far gone; yet!"

"Keep telling yourself that. Just stop with the mooning and get prepare to fawn and compliment me when I get out, jackass!"

* * *

Early Thursday morning David ambled up to Kurt's locker with his hands behind his back.

"What are you doing?" Kurt asked suspiciously, the shit eating grin that Sonia seemed to live in now planted on Dave's face. Kurt almost lost himself in how the green of David's eyes seemed to be glowing when the ex-football player pulled something out from behind his back; a square white box with a bow on top.

"Finally thought of something I could get you that you didn't already have."

Dave looked from Kurt to the box to back again, nudging it towards Kurt.

"Open it.

Kurt took the slightly heavy box, suspicion turning to excitement as he pulled off the blue bow, stuck it on David's head, and pulled open the top of a box.

What was clearly the top of a mug greeted him and he reached in for the handle and pulled it out, laughing brightly when he read the words 'I Drink Coffee For Your Protection'.

"This is either very sweet or highly insulting, David, but I'll thank you anyway."

Dave shrugged with a grin on his face.

"I would say a little bit o' both, but it's open for your interpretation."

And then he ambled back off towards his homeroom, a "See ya later," drifting towards Kurt who was watching him with a funny feeling in his gut. David was still donning the blue bow.

* * *

Kurt had been watching Dave put up chairs, absentmindedly shuffling together the papers from the teacher's desk, since they'd started cleaning up after the GSA.

"What?"

Kurt jolted out of his thoughts at David's voice.

"It's nothing."

Dave fixed Kurt with a doubtfully raised brow.

"Spill it, Kurt. You've been weird since the meeting ended."

"Okay, but remember you wanted to hear it alright?" Kurt took in a deep breath, standing fully upright from where he'd been perched against the desk.

"You're making me nervous," Dave admitted. "Is it bad?"

"Not bad, no. But before I tell you... I need to know if you realize how amazing what you did was."

A freshman had broken down earlier, admitting that since five years old he'd known he was meant to be a she. Dave had instantly been at her side, pulling her into the hallway where he proceeded to give her names of some of the transgendered girls he'd met at Scandals and showing her websites she could go to for information and networking.

When they'd returned Kevin had requested they call her Candace and she'd promised to come as she truly was next week.

"I only did what I could, it was noth-"

"Don't you dare discount how great you were," Kurt rallied. "And that's what has me thinking."

"So it's good thoughts?"

"Reconciling who you are with the guy you were junior year is a near impossible task," Kurt continued, his eyes once again fixed thoughtfully on David. The other boy's face fell.

"That's not who I am," Dave said slowly, feeling nervous again under Kurt's gaze. That unidentifiable glint in the countertenor's eyes was back, the one that made Dave's lower body pool with heat, and even though Kurt had brought up the bad times the hope inside of his chest danced a tango with his heart.

"I know, and that's what bothering me. You're this quirky, sweet, warm person who hid himself because of loneliness and fear, and I'm so sorry I wasn't there-"

"Kurt, it's not your fault-"

"I've been missing out on this great guy all along. I only wish I'd seen it sooner."

"Kurt," Dave's voice got lost in the shrinking gap between them as Kurt breached Dave's personal space, a determined look on his face.

"And the way you look at me..." Kurt trailed off when his eyes landed on David's lips. His hands reached up to brace him on the broad chest in front of him and Dave stared, wide eyed, as Kurt held his gaze while he leaned in closer. A whimper escaped Dave's lips and he closed the remaining distance, a damn of heat breaking open when Kurt's hands fisted in his shirt and Dave breathed in slowly through his nose as their mouths fit together softly before one or bother of them added more pressure.

Kurt pulled back a fraction opened his mouth against Dave's, the former licking his lips, and when Dave felt the moist muscle brush against own bottom lip he was hit with the fact that yeah, this was happening.

"Really?" he asked, going for hopeful but not really caring if he landed near desperate or pathetic.

"Apparently so," Kurt answered, slightly awed but very satisfied by his own actions.

"You're not messing with me, right?"

Kurt looked back at David, stricken.

"Do you really think I'd do that?"

"No!" David moved his hands from their light grip on Kurt's waist (when had they gotten there?) to grab Kurt's hands, which had been slipping from their hold on his shirt front. "No I'm sorry. I just always tried to tell myself to give up hoping and I never thought I deserved you but... I think I've just been waiting."

Kurt felt a strange sense of deja vú before shrugging it off and leaning up for another kiss only to have David lean back a bit.

"Hold on."

Kurt huffed, his fingers tightening in their grip again.

"I thought we had taken thing off hold."

"But I wanna do this right," Dave loosened Kurt's grip from his shirt and brought their grasped hands up between them. "If this is really happening I don't want to screw it up or rush it. Let me take you on a date?"

"A date?"

"Yeah," Dave nodded eagerly. "We can go to that new barbeque place Mercedes was raving about."

"And he listens to my friends," Kurt whispered profoundly. "So a date."

"If you'll agree," Dave furrowed his brow, but a brilliant smile lit up his whole face as the reality of the situation caught up with him. Kurt had kissed him. Kurt had kissed him! He licked his lips at the thought.

"As if I'd say no."

They beamed at each other, hearts syncing against their joined hands that were pressed tightly between their chests. Neither seemed inclined to move, Kurt's eyes once again staring at David's lips.

"Nuh-uh," Dave said, unwillingly stepping back to put space between them. "Gentlemen don't kiss before the first date."

"Then I guess we're not gentlemen, are we?" Kurt pointed out stubbornly but Dave only shook his head.

"Speak for yourself, Fancy. This new leaf I turned over came with a badge of honor. I'd like to keep it shiny since the guy I'm tryin' to impress is a stickler for presentation."

"Sounds like a snob," Kurt joked, trying to calm his libido as he unwillingly separated himself further from David, forcing himself to finish with the cleanup. The other boy was always surprising him; he'd pigheadedly expected David to jump him if he ever so much as looked at him sideways, but this was a refreshing development. Kurt thought maybe he could have it all- the romance and the inferno.

Dave mourned the loss of warmth from Kurt's body before he followed his lead, stacking the rest of the chairs on top of desks before speaking over his shoulder. "Nah, he's a softie. Just has standards. Which is a good thing, 'cause he makes me want to be a better person."

It was a lot easier to let the sentiment creep into his voice with his back to Kurt.

'I know I love you. I can't wait to prove it,' Dave thought to himself, a fire brimming in his chest.

They finished in silence, Kurt humming "You and I" under his breath as he erased the white board. It made Dave melt even further and he kept reminding himself that pouncing Kurt would rock an already storm weathered and precariously drifting boat.

After they finished straightening up they gathered their belongings and met up at the door, their hands simultaneously reaching for the each other.

"You do know Zo and Satan aren't gonna give us a moment's peace, right?" David realized, his stomach flip flopping.

"It'll be worth it to see Finn's face," Kurt assured him, squeezing his hand.

Dave chuckled at the thought. Probably due to his connection with Kurt, Finn and Rachel had become his closest friends, outside of Santana, in Glee. Even though a part of him wanted to keep this close to his vest until it had time to mature he was pretty sure the news would be met positively; at least if Rachel's looks and Finn's comments about the future were anything to go by.

They stepped outside, the cool spring night adding to the ambiance and surreal feel of the evening. Kurt felt the warmth from their joined hands spread up his arm before leaking through every vein in his body.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" he sighed out, leaning against David's side and inhaling deeply. He'd never get sick of the mix of David's own pheromones with his woody cologne. His head began to swim and his eyes drifted softly shut. Dave released his hand before bringing his arm around Kurt's back and pulling him more firmly against his side. His hand rested lightly on Kurt's hip, slightly shaky fingers skimming the skin above his pant line.

"I'll text you later to finalize our date," Dave whispered.

"Okay," Kurt smiled, eyes drifting open and looking out across the McKinley High School parking lot, empty save for a sprinkling of cars.

Neither of them seemed inclined to move, though, and they stood their taking in the smell of honeysuckles on the breeze.

"Hey Kurt?"

"Hmm?"

"Got any plans for prom?"

The End


End file.
